From England, With Love

Snap

I shut the hotel room door and flick on the lights. Pete is quiet and heads to the bed. I lock the door, remembering who our neighbour is, and catch his arm. He flinches slightly, and my heart pangs with numb anger. 

"You're freezing," I say, softly. "You should shower first."

After we left the Royal Cross, Pete begged me to take him back to the hotel. We walked slowly down the streets of Soho, much emptier in the late hour, retracing the steps we took earlier. We said nothing, but my arm remained around him the whole time, my hand stroking his arm to try and calm him.

"I...," he trails off, his gaze not meeting mine. "I don't want to be alone." 

I nod, understanding the implication in his words.

Opening the bathroom door, I see his clothes from earlier folded neatly next to the bath. I pick them up and take them to the bed.

"Did you bring pyjamas?" I ask, turning to the suitcase.  Pete nods and points to them, saying nothing as I scoop them up and drape them over the warm radiator.

I hold my hand out to him, he takes it without hesitation and we enter the bathroom. I lock it. He drops his jacket to the floor, lingering on it's battered form for a moment before suddenly tugging desperately at his tie, a fresh bout of tears forming in his eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey," I coo, taking his hand into mine and placing it by his side. "Let me." I undo his tie for him, draping it over the sink before undoing the buttons of his shirt. His breath shakes and I battle against the hot tears stinging my eyes. I can't tell if I'm angry, distraught or both. 

Deep inside me is a deep sense of guilt. I broke the vow I made to myself; I let him out of my sight, I didn't warn him about Michael, and now my boyfriend has been assaulted. The fingers of blame point themselves to me, and even though I try, I cannot shift their judgement. 

I take a deep breath, refusing to  break down at the time Pete needs me the most. Once his shirt is unbuttoned I let it fall to the floor. My face falls and my conscience is stunned into silence as crimson kiss marks are revealed from under the fabric, fanning from Pete's upper neck, to his shoulder, to his collar bone. 

Suddenly, Pete's shaky hand cups my face, forcing me to look at his tear stained face and bruised lips.

"I know what you're thinking and it's not true." He whispers, running his thumb over my cheek. I swallow hard, the tears in my eyes clouding my vision.

"I... I just feel like-" I start to speak but he cuts me off.

"It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself, please, Ae." He wraps his arm around me, drawing me into an hug and causing my head to rest on his shoulder. He's cold and damp, yet internal warmth flows from him and the faint sound of his heartbeat slowly dismantles my feelings of self-hatred.

The tears begin to fall and I sob against him, gripping him like a vice as I cry. 

"It's not your fault," he whispers, "I'll be okay, I have you," he adds, placing a kiss on top of my head. We stand like this for a while, both are breathing rates slowly declining and falling in sync. 

I pull myself out of his embrace and rub my face with my hands to get rid of the tears before pulling my jacket off and adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the bathroom floor. 

"Let's shower," I say, undoing my tie and shirt, "we'll both fucking freeze to death if we stand here much longer." We both laugh, and Pete finishes undressing. The only thing he leaves is his underwear, his fingers hesitating at the waist band.

I blush slightly and turn around. I've seen Pete naked before, but I don't think this is the right time to put him on the spot, especially given what just happened.