I Wonder If I Care as Much

Chapter Twelve

It was four in the morning when they returned. Not one street had been left unexplored by the pair. After a vague promise that he would "talk to Malcolm about it," Angus bade Hannah a goodnight and made the walk to his own room.

The door closed behind him, his shoes slipped off without the trouble of untying the laces. Tossing his jacket on the couch he pulled his belt apart letting his pants lie there on the floor. He added his weight to the bed and removed his shirt, the cold cutting its stay short when he pulled the covers up. The warmth of Sherrie next to him was tempting. One arm snaked underneath her while the other cradled over her waist, Angus burying his face in her hair. "You've been gone a while," she whispered.

He was surprised to hear her awake. "I didn't hear you get up," he said. She looked over her shoulder so he could hear her better.

"Thought I could have some company," she started. "Woke up at two thirty. Rolled over and you were gone."

Brushing her hair to the side he kissed the back of her neck once, twice, a few times moving down to her shoulder. "I'm here now," he mumbled. Two fingers slipped under the strap of her nightgown pulling it over her shoulder and down her arm. Rolling over to face him, Sherrie took the strap and pulled it up again. Angus knocked his thumbs together. "Changed your mind?"

"Where were you?" she asked. His hand was pushed away after he tried to cup her chin. Her voice was strained from the morning and trying to get her point across without waking the plaza. Angus rolled over onto his back folding his hands over his chest. "You always run off in the night without telling me?"

"Sherrie, I-" He sighed and pushed his hair back.

"Do you?"

"...No, I don't. I was out takin' a walk. Couldn't sleep."

"Hannah there?"

"What?" Sherrie sat up on her elbow staring coldly at him.

"She was, wasn't she?" Angus sighed out a laugh staring at the sheet that covered him. "You took a walk in the middle of the night with her?"

"Why should that matter?" he challenged. "What if I was with Malcolm, or Cliff, would that make any difference?" Sherrie rolled onto her back and huffed.

"They're not close to you."

"Oh, I'd beg to differ," he replied. "One of them bein' my own brother." He reached across the bed taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

"They're not women." Angus chuckled.

"Again, one could argue-" Sherrie yanked her hand away and turned her back to him. "What is your problem?"

"Oh, just get up and leave in the middle of the night, that's fine. I'll wake up alone having no clue where you are, that's okay." Her tone hit the ceiling. She pushed the sheet away from her face and sat up all the way, her hands in rapid animation. "Not knowing if you're hurt or need help, just-go on ahead, I'll wait here for you."

"You leave me all the time!" he shouted back. "Every night we get close, I wake up an' you're gone. Don't cry to me 'cause I went out one night."

"Well..." she crossed her arms and huffed again. "You know where I am."

"No, no I have no fuckin' clue where you are!" She remained silent. "Don't leave a note, don't wait till I'm up, nothin', you're jus' gone out the bathroom window." Sherrie didn't answer, though Angus wasn't quite sure her silence meant she was listening. "I hate when you do that, an' you do it all the time. If I'm that bad in bed tell me to my face."

"You've never complained about it before, so..." Her voice didn't lose its accusation. "I didn't think it was such a big deal." Angus spread his arms out in disbelief.