Sensuality

VI - 7

Obviously, I stay the night, babysitting Angel. This time it was really easy to get her to sleep.

She was so excited after Thomas and I told her about us that she burned off all her energy. Now she is lying in Thomas's bed sleeping and obviously dreaming. Every few minutes she turns around and lets her arms fly through the air and crash on the mattress. It is hilarious.

I can't keep myself from filming a little portion off it to show Thomas later. The bad thing is she is wiggling so hard that I can't lie next to her. In hopes that she will stop eventually I go into the kitchen and pure myself some juice. Blueberry. It's so good.

Bored I look around a bit. The kitchen is super clean. Now that I think about it, the whole apartment is always spot on. It is incredible how Thomas manages everything. His job, a five-year-old daughter, chores, and now he has me as well. I mean I am not work, even though I am a piece of work but he has to include me in his schedule as well now.

It must be exhausting. I drink up and go over to the sink to clean my glass. I stop.

What the fuck? Why are there six coffee cups in here? And they are all used. Confused I take a step toward the shelf and grab the coffee box.

I stop again. The box is light as fuck. I open it and only a little bit of coffee powder is in there. Not even enough to cover the bottom. Did he drink six cups of coffee between coming home from work and visiting me at my university? Those are definitely not remains from the last few days. Thomas has a habit of cleaning before he goes to work, so he doesn't have to in the morning and catch up on sleep more. At least when I am not here. Then I normally do it.

No wonder he couldn't sleep this morning. With that much coffee in his system, he is probably not sleeping for another 24 hours. The question is why did he drink that much coffee in the first place?

I start cleaning my glass and the six cups. The more I think about the less sense does it make and it worries me immensely. If Thomas's schedule gets too much for him then he should talk to me. I can help. I want to help.

But I can't do something right now. But I will confront Thomas the first chance I have in the morning. Felling a little bit defeated I walk back and see if Angel got calmer.

No, she didn't. She is still turning but I want to sleep. It is late. Hoping that she won't wake up I lift her up and carry her into her own bed. Carefully I tug her in and give her a small kiss on the forehead.

"Good night", I whisper and then leave the room.

Now Angel-free, I can lie down in peace. But peace my ass.

My mind is still occupied with the possibility that Thomas is suffering and it kills me to think that Thomas doesn't trust me enough to talk to me about it.

I stare out the window and the flickering lights of the city calm me down a bit. I can imagine my dad walking into the room lying down next to me and forcing me to tell him what's bothering me. He could always tell when something wasn't right with me. At some point, I learned it is futile to pretend everything fine and just talk to him. Sometimes he would give me solid advice but mostly he planted a kiss in my hair and say:

"Don't rack your brain about something you don't know. Go to sleep and talk in the morning. It is too late to worry about a scenario in your head."

Or something like that? I wish he would be here right now. Telling it to myself doesn't have the same impact.

I turn around, away from the city lights, and close my eyes. I try to think of something else. It feels like hours go by before my mind goes blank and I drift into a dreamless sleep.