History Doesn't Repeat Itself

Chapter 6

"The bed looks very comfy," Gale says, breaking the silence. "Very."

It didn't look comfortable, it was comfortable. Fuzzy pillows, a thick comforter, and fluffy white sheets. All looking like they came from a hotel room. 

"Yep," I say, glancing at Gale who was propped up on the doorjamb, wondering why he was slowly inching backwards. "What are you—"

"Bye-bye," He says, turning around and walking away from the room.

"Where are you going?"

Why did I have to ask him that? Of course, there wasn't any other reason to leave me alone there aside from finding another place to sleep in. One that wasn't Christy'd, A.K.A the fluffy velvet couch downstairs.

He turns around and looks at me through the doorway. "To the couch, Christy. Good night."

"But. . ." I trail off.

Gale hums, "Do you need something?" He says. "I think you forgot your bag downstairs, I could bring it up here." He dissapeared into the hallway again, and I scoff at that. 

"We're grown adults, Gale. We can sleep on the same bed." I say. "It's not that big of a deal."

Why am I trying so hard to sleep with him?

With my voice getting louder, he walks back and props himself back at the doorjamb. "You want me to sleep. . . next to you?" He says, looking at me like he was uneasy about the thought of sleeping next to me. "Look, I really don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, Christy. You've already experienced enough trouble today, with the whole Dave thing earlier. You can have the bed, I'll sleep on the couch. It's actually pretty comfy." He says.

It wasn't. Not anymore.

God, why does this man have to be like this? I understand why he doesn't want to sleep in the same bed with a woman who he has only met just a few weeks ago. I get it, I really do. But he deserves to sleep on a comfortable bed after he helped me. I want him to. I need him to.

"But you were the one who got rid of him, Gale. How about this: you have the bed and I'll sleep on the couch." I say. "It's only fair, you know?"

His throat bobs when he swallowed. He looking at the bed now, looking like he was considering my offer, yet he didn't look like he was going to agree with it. He was smiling again. "No."

"Why not?"

He tilts his head until it was touching the wood on the doorjamb. "I'm not going to have this argument with you, Christy." He says, placing his hand on the doorknob. "Not after I held you for half an hour. Good night."

"But—"

Gale moves back and shuts the door behind him. I could see that he didn't even pull the door that hard, but it made one of the loudest creaking and clanging sounds I've ever heard a door make. 

The door creaks open again, "Hey, I'm sorry for slamming the door. Good night, again." He says, closing the door slowly this time.

"Fine! But I'm gonna get you back on this!"

"No need. It's my pleasure." He says as his footsteps fade.

Now I'm all alone in this spacious room. My stomach feels funny and I'm getting powerful—platonic—urges for that man. I want Gale to hug me again. To wrap his large, muscular arms around me, and cuddle me until I fall asleep. And maybe graze his crotch a little bit. . . I am down horrendously. And I'm alright with that.

I walk across the room to close the window, perusing every single detail since It might help me remember things, like that lamp on the. . . nevermind.

I walk to the bed, and cannonball into it. And, oh god, it's one of the most comfortable beds I have ever laid down on.