Teeth

Chapter Thirteen

The mattress was hard and springy, nothing like his own. His own bed was soft and his toes often hung over the end. The smell wasn't the same either. While his sheets generally had the indistinct scent of chemical washing powder, these smelled of skin, sex, and apples. Green apples to be precise. He didn't know why he knew that. He just did.

Thomas's eyes opened much quicker than was normal after sleeping so well and he pushed himself up. A thin sheet slid down his side and crumbled at his hip. Looking down he breathed a sigh of relief that he was, at least, still wearing his boxers.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the cool, wooden floor. The curtains were thick and heavy and the room was still dark, but he could feel the itch of heat against his skin like he was already standing in the sun. The room was too stuffy. Thomas pushed himself up and padded to the window.

He'd barely opened the curtains an inch before he flinched back, hissing in pain. A shaft of light, so brilliantly bright it made his eyes water had landed across his arm. He shoved the curtain closed, grasping the ends together and looked down. A pink strip of flesh, like the beginning of sunburn, glowed with heat across the inside of his forearm. Thomas grimaced and rubbed it vigorously but it didn't go away.

There were two doors out of the room and upon opening the first he found a bathroom. It was almost black inside. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"Close the door," a voice groaned.

Thomas jumped and grasped the handle tighter. He glanced over his shoulder at the bedroom and slowly stepped forward, closing the door behind him, leaving the last remnants of light outside.

Through the dark, he could see the outlines of the toilet and sink. To his right, a large bathtub stood against the wall and Thomas frowned when he realised that there was someone in it. He blinked a few more times and, upon closer inspection, realised that not only was there a person in the bathtub, but they had a pillow and blanket as well.

"Spencer?" he asked.

"What?"

Thomas looked at the door before grasping the lid of the toilet. He put it down and carefully perched himself on the edge.

"Why are you sleeping in the bath?"

Spencer opened his eyes and the whites around his irises shone through the dark. He rubbed his hand over his face and shifted around, reaching up to punch his pillow.

"Too bright," he said. "Not to mention that my bed was occupied."

"I didn't hear you come in."

"Nah, you were pretty dead."

Thomas let out an unbidden chuckle, rubbing his hand over the patch of raw skin. Out of all the ways for Spencer to describe his sleeping habits, 'dead' was particularly amusing to him today.

"What you do to your arm?"

He looked at Spencer in surprise.

"How did you know?"

"Can smell it."

Looking down at his arm, Thomas realised that he could see it clearly. The darkness had lessened, like a fog clearing, and he could see everything in shades of grey and blue. The skin on his arm looked almost purple in the dark.

"I went to open the curtains and the light hit it," he explained.

"Rookie move," Spencer chuckled. "Give it half an hour and you'll be fine."

Spencer sat up, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face and threading his fingers into his hair.

"I thought vampires were meant to heal instantly?" Thomas asked, gazing at the patch of burned skin.