Spotlight on Nobody

- 25 -

~ Stay by Mac Ayres ~

I roll over and force my eyes shut, but within five seconds they're back open, staring at the alarm clock.

1:45 AM.

I can't sleep. I thought after such a long day I'd be dead tired, but here I am, wired and awake. I need my beauty sleep. Not to sound vain, but I don't plan on making my red-carpet debut with bags under my eyes.

I go through my day in my head, checking to see if I had any caffeine that would leave me so impossibly awake. Water all day, wine with dinner, champagne with Alice. Nope, no coffee.

My mind drifts to my makeout session with Leo – that left me feeling pretty wired. Maybe I'm still riding that buzz, my body unable to switch off with the taste of Leo's lips still on mine. Despite Alice's pep talk, and my own bathroom hype session, Leo and I are spending the night in separate rooms. I'm all talk and no walk, I know, but I just can't bring myself to make the first move with Leo. Especially when it seems like he's into me, but not that into me. That sounds silly, seeing as though I'm his date to the motherfucking Met Gala, but there's something in his eyes when he looks at me. It's hard to see, but seeing as though Leo's eyes are one of my favorite things to look at, I've found that there's this lurking sadness, this detachment that I can always see when he looks at me. Frankly, I'm scared of it; I'm scared that it means he's not as invested as I am. Because I can say with certainty that none of that detachment is present in my eyes.

Suddenly my phone buzzes against the nightstand – a nightstand which likely costs as much as a month's rent. Opening the notification, I see Leo posted a picture, one that I'm tagged in. My heart pounds in my chest as I click on the picture. Leo and I are entirely framed by marble, the ornate wallpaper glistening with the flash. He has one leg up on the marble base of the fireplace and I'm wedged snug against him. Our bodies are pressed firmly against each other, my silk dress and his crisp button down adding to the fancy-factor of the picture. My leg wraps slightly in front of him, my heeled death traps even making an appearance, and my arms are slung around his shoulders, my head tilted back in a hearty laugh. But it's the way Leo is looking at me that makes my breath catch in my throat. If I had seen the way he looked at me when the photo was taken, I would have jumped his bones right then and there.

Practicing our red-carpet poses – thoughts? reads the caption. @IAmAliceKriss commented we want to see more! I scroll through more comments, from John Mayer to Dylan O'Brien and see Ella and Grace both tagged me in their comments.

Oh so this is what you meant when you said 'studying for exams,' Grace wrote.

Stole another dress from my closet? commented Ella.

I smile at the comments from my two best friends. I'm already excited to go back to school Tuesday and tell them all about this insane weekend. Ella already tried FaceTiming me – talk about separation anxiety – but I was at dinner with Leo.

My fingers hesitate above the keyboard before I type out trust me everyone, @LeoGriffiths jokes are not that funny.

Not even a minute after I post my comment, I hear a light knock at my door, before it opens slowly and Leo slips in. He stands on the other side of the room, the lights from the city outside illuminating his face ever so slightly. From my bed I can see he's shirtless, standing there only in a pair of loose sweatpants, not moving. I'm not moving either. It's like our world is frozen, just the two of us, looking at each other, nothing else.

I move over to one side of the bed and pull the duvet away on the other side, a silent invitation. Slowly he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, facing away from me.

"I couldn't sleep," he says softly.

"Me neither."

He stays on the edge of the bed, sitting stiffly and not moving.

"Are you okay?" I ask, reaching out a hand to brush his shoulder. He takes my hand and turns to face me, a sad look on his face. Slowly he reaches out his other hand and brushes my cheek, oh so lightly. Something in the softness of his touch, or the way his eyebrows are drawn so sorrowfully together, makes me want to cry. Instead, I lay down and turn away from him, pulling his hand so that he's wrapped around me, our bodies flush against each other.

"I am now," he whispers back to me a few minutes later. I let out a sigh and snuggle into him, letting him drape his arm completely over me. I'm quickly lulled to sleep by the steady sound of his breathing, his warm chest pressed to my back, his hand drawing circles in mine.

"I don't want to hurt you," I think he says, but then I'm asleep, and I'm not sure if he said anything at all.