Hidden Clips

Behind Closed Doors

Norma wants to knock on the wooden door of room four but thinks better of it. She had promised Alex that she would be back to check on him after making dinner; dinner wasn't close to being done, but since she had time to spare, she chose to check on him instead.

A smile emerges as soon as she sees that he is sleeping. He is still in the same position that she left him in; right after he called her beautiful. Closing the door after her, with that same grin coated on her face, she marches her way to him. He looks so serene. Not as troubled as to when he's awake and half the time, sullen. He doesn't seem so stoic when he's in profound slumber.

Norma tucks a curl behind her ear, examining him casually and very discreetly. There is something distinctive about this man, and she wants to figure out exactly what. Perhaps the similarities between them are what attracts her more. They are so different and yet, remarkably similar in a lot of ways.

But he trusts her. He trusts her enough to call her and unashamedly ask for her help. He trusts her sufficient to tell her about his mom. He thinks of Norma when he is not his full self; Norma Bates is always in his mind, and that was something that she couldn't neglect.

Norma grins while still scrutinizing him. She feels important. It's been a long time since she's perceived something so pure; so personal. As much as she tries to deny it, she can't dismiss the chemistry between them. She thinks back on the way he held her hand an hour ago. How he tugged her closer to him—what that moment represented.

She ventured to move imminent to him; to inhale his masculine scent. A weird mix of alcohol and aftershave. It was something powerful yet essential. A smell that, in other circumstances, was meant to be unwelcomed. Is such a delicacy to her because the man passed out in front of her, unmistakably drunk, is Alex and not Sam.

Alex stirs a bit, and Norma catches her breath. She thinks he can perceive her proximity, perhaps her perfume or the way her heart was pounding aggressively against her chest. It feels ominous and intimate to be here with him, alone in that room, secluded from the rest of the world.

But it also feels ideal; exactly where she craves to be right now. Alex grumbles something under his breath, something Norma can't quite comprehend. She sits on the very edge of the bed, the same place she sat an hour ago while he emptied his heart out and for the very first time, after all these years, talked to her about the most important person in his life—his mom.

He stirs a bit more, and she smiles again, halting both of her palms flattened on the bed. Alex senses her movements and opens his eyes gradually, discovering her gazing back at him thoughtfully.

"Hi," his voice melodious and almost subtle.

Norma beams. "How are you feeling?"

"Are you supposed to be revolving around the room?"

Norma chuckles. "No."

"Then I'm extremely dizzy," he says coolly. "You're all over the place."

"Let me go get you some water."

"I don't want any," he protests with no shame. "I'll throw up."

Norma stops dead in her tracks, gazing back at him through her eyelashes, giving him a knowing look. He rolls his eyes, recognizing more than anyone what that expression meant. He thought he saw a faint smirk forming on her lips before she disappeared into the restroom, but he was too dazed to discern.

Norma walks back into the room holding a glass filled with tap water, including two washcloths and a towel.

Alex looks at her, and she articulates. "In case you throw up."