Night At The Holiday

How to say this

The suitcases were filled with clothes. One suitcase was filled with books and papers. I could imagine them being Oakleys part of work. He wasn't here to relax. He was here to work in peace. Without people breathing down his neck. I only had a role to play here. Play that I would have fun and show I belonged to him. All while my life back home was laying on a break. His life was going on. Work, firends and specially the stress. He would not be done. I took a break to look at Oakley. Really look at him. He looked tired. His hair was still perfect, but it was slowly giving up its perfect form. He was still wearing the awful clothes I had hated. He was focused on the papers in his hands. He reached for more before laying them on the bed. This was the Oakley I was going to live with for a while. Focused. Working. This was not what he was going to be doing all the time right? I dropped the clothes back in the suitcase and slammed it close. The sound made Oakley look in my direction. 

"How about we go for a walk first? See how it looks around here?" I made it sound like a question. It wasn't. I hated myself for asking. Oakley looked strange at me. Had he not expected me to say something suddenly? Had I expected to say something? Probably not. He turned back to his paperwork. I walked to the bad and grabbed his arm. He didn't look away from the papers, but I knew I had his attention now.

"Come on. This will be here when we get back." I said pulling hard on his arm. He didn't move an inch. After what felt like a minute, he got up. 

"Only on one condition." Now that he stood before me was strange. I forgot he was a bit taller than me. The distance between us was gone. He was close. Too close. My hand on his arm was slowly beginning to sweat. Was he going to notice? Was he going to make a comment on it?

"What would that be?" I asked, letting go of his arm. He raised over and grabbed my hand. His hand matched mine in a strange way. I couldn't tell If my hand was still sweaty, but at this point I did not care for once. 

"Just in case someone sees us suddenly." He smiled. Of course. His friends could be anywhere. He turned us and pulled me along as he made his way around the house. I could smell the house. The wood and the nature. This place had to be new. A smell as strong as this was no joke. I made us stop in the living room. Oakley looked over his shoulder before turning around. 

"What is wrong?" He asked. I let go of his hand. Something I might regret. 

"I don't know how to say this." I started. I looked at him again. He tried to reach for my hand again. I pulled it away and hid it behind my back.

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything. You know that right?" He sounded worried. 

"You look like you came from a funeral." I blurred out. Oakley looked down at his clothes. It became silent between us. I could hear the birds behind the glass windows. They sounded happy. A sound interrupted them. I sound I fell for. It was laughter. He was laughing. At my words. I could imagine them sounding bad. Them being painful. Only he laughed. Didn't smile at them. He actually laughed at them. Out loud.