keep me cold

B&Q

the next day, i stayed in my little flat. Sam had also stayed overnight at mine and he, Ana and i shared a friendly brunch the next morning. Sam is an interesting character. he looks like the sort to want to assert his dominance in every situation, prove to everyone that he's the alpha male. with his dominating height, buzz cut and dark eyes set into his rich chestnut skin. but in actuality he couldn't be more different. when i finally woke up well into the early afternoon, he greeted me with a smile -bright enough to combat the moon- a glass of water and a couple paracetamol. he then proceeded to lead me to the kitchen where he and Ana had cooked up the most varied breakfast i have ever seen in my nineteen years on earth. fried eggs and potato waffles sat next to left over Indian take out and spaghetti. a stack of toast leaned against a half empty 2 liter bottle of coke. the spread was enormous. we sat for hours, devouring the food (that put all together was surprisingly delicious), and just talking. i found out that both Ana and Sam are studying at Edinburgh university. Ana is studying veterinary medicine, and Sam is working on his art degree. i also found out that Sam has an obsession with one direction and continued to mention that if he were gay, Harry Styles would be his perfect man. both Ana and i agreed. i mean how can you disagree. they didn't leave till it was dark outside and fatigue was starting to set in on all of us. i offered them to stay over again but both of them kindly declined. the next day i spend cleaning up the dishes i hadn't bothered to the night before, and generally trying to make the small flat more livable. standing on the rickety step ladder i reach up to dust the corners of the single bedroom. it is generously sized in comparison to the rest of the flat. both the carpet and walls are a dark beige. a colour that immediately sucks any inspiration or interesting aspects out of the room. my double bed lies in the middle of the room. a dark wood base and plain white sheets. the most basic of basics. a single window is opposite the door and a small wardrobe stands next to it. as i stand on the step ladder, surveying my kingdom, i realize something. since moving in a month ago, i haven't changed anything in the flat. all the furniture was already here when i moved in, and i never found the urge to paint any of the walls or put up photos. the box of beige is a sad sight. so lonely and desolate. swiftly jumping down from the small ladder, i run through the rooms to collect what i need. seconds later the front door slams behind me. 

...

"how long are we gonna spend here?" Sam doesn't look up from where hes crouched in front of countless rows of paint tins. 

"this was your idea." he reminds me, the smugness clear in his voice. 

"i know but i thought it would be a quick pop-in trip. we've been here for years!" he chuckles lightly at my childish complaining and continues to run his fingers over the various tins, examining every colour. i stopped trying to figure out what Sam's vision is as soon as we walked into the colossal B&Q. at least twenty small tins are gripped in his muscly arms, and yet he still scans the shelves for more. i had called Sam as soon as i had left the house. him - being an art major - was more than down to help me redecorate. 

"how long do you think you'll be?" i say impatiently. starting to shift my weight from one foot to the other. 

"shh... you cannot rush an artiste!" he says, flamboyantly throwing his head back, pretending to shake long hair out of his eyes. groaning i throw my own head back out of pure frustration. 

"fuck this." i mumble, more to myself that anyone else. "I'm going over there. come find me when you're done." he doesn't reply but nodes his head inconspicuously, so invested in his new project. i start to walk away, not bothering to look at the signs up above. slowly the shelves fill with different items. paint tins turn into spray cans. the cans turn into brushes. the brushes turn into plaster filler and before i know it, I'm standing among plants. i stop by a bright red pot of lilies so large they lean over into the isle. reaching out, i stroke one of its light pink petals. its so soft and delicate beneath my fingers, like silk. the smell wraps around me, like a hug from a grandmother,  and I'm engulfed in it. my hand travels over the petals and down the stalk. i let my fingertips jump from the lily to the plant next to it. this ones an orchid in a smooth white pot. the lilac flowers hang softly, like a ladies driving glove draped over the steering wheel of a gloriously vintage car. roses. next to the orchid. the beautiful deep maroon petals, a startling contrast to the tiny daggers running up the stem. how can something so beautiful be so violent? i dazedly let my hand fall onto one of the minuscule spikes. i jump back as i feel it pierce my skin, withdrawing my hand quickly where a small bead of blood is already gathering on the tip of my ring finger.

"can i help you?" a voice comes from beside me. the dull words of a shop assistant spoken in a voice with far too much humor for a Saturday morning.

"no, I'm-" i start, before looking up. a cocky grin plays upon his boyish lips and a light rogue gives slight colour to his ivory skin. "oh."

{author's note}

oooh, who do you think it is?