Two Faced

Chapter Fourteen: A Night In The Bed

Chapter fourteen: A Night In The Bed
Leozy's POV

He was asleep in my room.

Despite the silence, the atmosphere was soft, gentle, comfortable.

He didn't move in his sleep, was awfully still so when the constant shuffling died down to nothing - I knew he'd fallen asleep.

It was almost ironic.

The apartment was warm, I wanted to strip all my clothes and lay near a window, and maybe if I was in my room I would've. But I didn't want him waking up, coming out and seeing me bare ass naked.

I sighed into the air.

I figured I could tell Samantha in the mornings that what I wanted was sex. No, honestly, I didn't even want the sex. It was good when it was there, but I wasn't actively seeking for it.

The cats were all with Nick, I didn't see them with the exception of them coming out to get food or maybe drink a bit. They enjoyed the heater, I figured out, so sometimes they'd come and sit right on top of it.

But they also adored Nick. More so than I had ever really noticed in any other guests. They rubbed up on him constantly, pawed and meowed for his attention.

The room was pitch black, My eyes had adjusted in just a way I could see the slight texture of the ceiling. 

The smell of spice and chicken was dying out, replaced with the smell of linen and air refreshener.

It didn't cross my mind until now, the humorous thought of... how did I manage to find myself sleepin on my own couch whilst someone else occupied my bed?

Of course the couch was a pull out couch, and I could've easily reminded Nick of that after I remembered. But he'd seemed excited to sleep on the bed, commenting on how comfortable my covers look and how nice my room felt.

So I couldn't tell him - not even that the mattress was hard and miserable and he'd only find comfort in the blanket and cats.

It wasn't that I was uncomfortable here. It was just weird. I had to adjust to the fact that I was laying here - tired, thinking, mind racing.

I don't even remember why I had offered to let him stay.

I thought maybe it was too dangerous for him to go back out on the road when he seemed so drained.

Huh, guess I do remember.

It's almost comedic. He's a bike racer. Yet I was awfully concerned with him driving his car, the speed limit, 15 minutes to his house when he was just a bit tired.

I didn't see Nick as a kid anymore. Not after learning more about his life, but I also saw him almost as something that needs protecting.

Call it a superiority complex, but I didn't like the idea of him being cold, being tired, being up late or even him being woken abruptly because of me.

When I think of it like that, it sounds more so like I'm his father.

Did he feel like that?