Fool Me Once | T. Drake ✔

[10] Restless

By the time Tim came back to the manor, it was quite late. Roxanne was in the kitchen, talking to Alfred, and it seemed he had given her his remedy to sober her up.

Tim came to the kitchen as well to get a cup of coffee. She looked at him, cheeks flushing slightly as she briefly recalled her antics at the Gala. He had been very patient with her but that didn't mean she could put him into compromising situations.

He took the seat beside her, keeping his eyes focused solely on the coffee cup. But the faint tinge of pink on his cheeks was quite noticeable.

"I thought you would be asleep by now," he spoke at last.

"I was waiting for you," she replied in a lower voice than usual, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have drunk too much, I was quite a burden on you tonight..."

"It's fine," he turned to look at her, "you were kinda funny though."

She shook her head, "I don't remember the last time I had gotten this drunk. I guess I was just too happy that Rom left me on my own and I could do whatever I wanted."

He stiffened at the mention of her brother, the man's words resonating around him still. But then there was no proof to his statement and he had to give Roxanne the benefit of doubt.

After all, she was innocent until proven guilty. Every evidence they had found so far pointed against Romero being the killer.

"Did you see Romero after I left?" She asked, feeling that there was something he was hiding from her and that had a lot to do with her brother.

"No. I was told he left early with another guest."

"Right..." She checked her phone and still, there was no call from him, indicating that he was either very busy or didn't care to call her back just yet.

That worked well with her too. She didn't want to go back.

"Alright, it's late. You should rest too now," he stood up, taking the cup to the sink to wash it, "I can show you to a guest room or you can stay in mine if you want to. I have some work to do so I won't be in my room either."

"Oh," she looked slightly crestfallen to hear that, "okay."

Tim took her to his room because to his family, she was his girlfriend and if she stayed in a guest room for the night, Steph won't let him hear the end of it.

"You still have work to do?" She asked as he led her inside his room which was quite different from her own.

It was very neutral shaded and it seemed as if everything in there was placed according to functionality rather than aesthetics. There was no vanity table, just a framed mirror with a slab underneath. His bed was pushed to the corner and most of the space was taken by his computer setup.

"I'm always working," he replied, "and if this looks a mess, you can take the room beside mine. No, not the left one, that's Damian's."

"It's okay, I'll stay here," she said but paused in front of the mirror, taking in her disheveled reflection, "I look a mess."

"You can use the bathroom and I can go over to Steph's and bring you something to wear," he remarked but then checked the time, "oh wait, she'll be asleep..."

"It's fine, can I borrow a shirt from you?"

"Sure," he nodded, showing her to the walk-in closet, "pick whichever you like."

She looked around, noting that there were some outfits that were all put together and hung up for formal wear such as attending meetings or galas. Then the majority of his closet was of folded shirts and trousers kept at the bottom. It seemed that he preferred dressing in comfortable clothing, especially the worn down ones.