He Came Through the Window

Part 9

[The picture on the side just made me laugh. It's Corey Gray/Holland in his Halloween attire. I have no clue what he's supposed to be. Also, the song is Panic! At the Disco's version of "This is Halloween." Picked the picture and the video to fit the mood of this chapter. Enjoy :)]

(Ayden's Perspective)

I was halfway slipped into unconsciousness when a vibratng sensation on my chest caused me to jump and catch a shriek in my throat. My phone somehow inched itself onto my chest as I was lying on my back against the squeaky mattress. When my eyes opened, I noticed my blankets had been kicked to the ground, but my laptop was still at the end of the bed. Its illuminated screen lit up the dark room, and my attempt at a history report was still on the screen. Out of the mandatory two thousand words, I had two hundred.

Before the phone's vibration could tickle the bare skin exposed by my v-neck any more, I picked it up and accepted the call. It was twelve thirty on Monday morning. "What's up?" I groaned into the speaker, reluctantly sitting up with a crack of my spine.

"I just called to say I should be over in a half hour." Holland's voice was weighed down by exasperation and faltered breathing.

"Are you okay?" I rubbed at my eyes and unlatched the window with a free hand.

He sighed on the other end. "I'm fine, it's just work. I've been lifting my body weight on my back for the past three hours." Holland worked in shipping and delivery, and since he was one of the company's more spry employees, he was stuck with the heavy lifting.

I frowned and pushed the window open, letting in a brisk chill. "I'm sorry, babe."

"I'll live, it's good money."

"Once you get over here, I can make you feel better."

Holland whistled on the other end and laughed, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Oh, really now?" He dragged out each word, and I could just about hear him smiling.

"Yup, I-"

"Ambrock!" A man bellowed on the other end, cutting me off and echoing on the line.

I caught Holland cursing under his breath and smacking his hand on a table or something nearby. "I should go. I'll see you in a half hour or so, 'kay?"

"Work hard."

"Yes, ma'am."

The phone clicked and the line went dead. Laying back on the bed, I refocused on my history paper. "The Civil War," I read aloud, my words getting caught up in a yawn.

~~~

"You're so studious."

Holland was leaning inside the window, his torso in the room but his legs outside.

"I try," I giggled, saving my bullshitted [We're going to pretend like that's a work, okay? Okay.] work and closing the laptop. "Get in here, crazy, it's freezing out there."

He chuckled a bit as he swung his legs in the window, plopping down on the bed and crawling toward me. The hair on his pale arms was covering thick goosebumps. He wore only faded Levi's and his gray, button-down work shirt. "Come here, you," he purred.

I felt my cheeks burning scarlet as I shut the window and crawled into Holland's lap. He pulled me to his chest, letting me breathe in his subtle cologne. It smelled like faded vanilla.

"Hey," I told him, running my fingers over the buttons on his shirt. His heartbeat was steady as I did so. "want me to make your back feel better?"