Love from, Hell

They sat in silence and finished the rest of their meal. Julie tried not to spend the whole time watching Malcolm, but couldn’t help spending the majority of it staring at him anyway. She could get away with watching his chopstick technique- since she was his teacher. But staring at him while he chewed was a little much. He had picked up using chopsticks quickly once he’d seen her do it.

After they’d finished the chow mien, Julie set the empty cardboard platter on the ground. Her hair was in desperate need of a shower and hoped that the door on the other side of the room was a bathroom and not a closet.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Julie mumbled self consciously as she stood up. She walked over to the door and opened it. She felt a small wave of relief as she flicked on the small bathroom’s light. She turned and watched Malcolm return to the bed, though he made no movement to get under the blankets. Julie shut the bathroom door.

Although the bathroom was a little on the grimy side, the hot water felt wonderful. Julie used one of the tiny complimentary shampoo bottles to wash her hair. It didn’t get it quite as clean as she was used to, but her hair still felt better than it had before. The shower felt incredibly normal.

She climbed out of the bath tub and wrapped herself in a towel. Julie took time to dry herself off completely and comb through her hair with her fingers, since she had no brush. Once she was finished that, she squeezed out some of the toothpaste from the small tube on to her finger and brushed her teeth. After that, she was out of things to do in the bathroom.

Julie looked down at her clothes. How much should she wear to bed? She blushed a little, very aware of Malcolm in the adjoining room. She decided that there was nothing she could do except put her clothes back on again. She left off her sweater, shoes and socks, but was still covered up more than her usual nightwear in jeans and a tank top. Julie took a deep breath and opened the door, turning off the light as she left the bathroom.

For one horrible and incredibly long moment, Julie was convinced that Malcolm was dead. He was laying completely still, his eyes closed and his body in the exact sitting position that it had been in when she’d entered the bathroom. The only difference was his head was tilted a little to the side. Julie could feel the panic shoot through her veins. Then when his chest moved the smallest bit, Julie blinked surprised- then relieved. She walked toward the bed and smiled a little.

“Eats and sleeps,” she said very quietly to herself. It was less stressful to watch Malcolm while he slept and he was just as handsome when he was asleep as well as awake. But it was a little different. He wasn’t so intensely intimidated. In fact, he looked a little sweet. The feeling of endearment Julie had felt when she’d learned that Malcolm couldn’t use chopsticks returned, making her smile more.

She blinked, pulling herself out of her daze. She put the rest of her clothes on the ground next to the bed and turned off the lamp, making the room dark. Then she lifted the covers and slid under them very cautiously, on pins and needles worried that she’d wake Malcolm. She lay down tentatively looking over her shoulder watching his face for any signs of him waking up. He stayed almost as still as a statue except for the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest while he breathed.

Julie tried to relax, but found it very difficult; lying next to Malcolm, being so unbelievably conscious that he was behind her back and so very close, was impossible to ignore. Maybe, if she didn’t have her back to him, it would be easier. Julie turned over as quietly as possible, staying carefully on her side of the bed.

It was easier… and more difficult. Her mind stopped racing when she could see that Malcolm was merely lying there. But it was harder because now she could stare at his face, barely lit by the moon that leaked in through the blinds. He looked other worldly. She’d been right- the night did suit him the most. Looking up at him so close in the dark, he looked sort of… regal or something, she realized.

Yes, that was it, Julie decided. His looks were a strange but agreeable combination of the dark James Dean qualities as well as classic, almost ‘royal’ characteristics. Julie sighed quietly and closed her eyes. What a combination, she thought, as his face stayed clearly in her mind. Eventually she fell asleep.

***

Julie opened her eyes reluctantly and gray morning light was filtering into the unrecognizable room. Julie blinked and the memory came flooding back. Then, far too quickly for someone who had just woken up, she spun around to see if Malcolm was still lying next to her. He was gone.

Julie wasn’t surprised. She relaxed against the pillow again and pushed her hair from her face. She looked over at the other side of the bed again, to check for any signs that might indicate where he’d gone… or if he’d even been there at all. It could have all been a dream. But Julie could see that the other pillow on the bed was slightly rumpled and there were one or two pressed lines on the blanket. It hadn’t been a dream; she really had fallen asleep next to Malcolm. Julie sat up, curious to where he had gone and a little worried he wouldn’t come back.

She pushed the sheets off her body and swung her legs off the side of the bed. She yawned and walked into the bathroom. She glanced quickly at her reflection and made a face. It wasn’t too bad- considering she hadn’t had a comb to work with. When she finished with the facilities, Julie smoothed her hair in an attempt at looking presentable and then left the bathroom. As she stepped out of bathroom, Malcolm stepped back into the bedroom. He looked at her.

“Morning,” Julie said quietly, her voice scratchy from sleep.

Malcolm nodded. He had a plastic bag in his hand. “I brought you some breakfast,” He said, lifting the bag.

Julie walked over to him slowly, eying him apprehensively. He didn’t look back at her as he handed her the bag. Julie looked inside it. There was an apple and what smelled like toast inside a cardboard box.

“Do you want some?” she offered.

Malcolm went over to the window and opened it. There was no screen so he could lean out a little and light his cigarette outside the building.

“No thank you,” he said and put his cigarette to his mouth.

Julie sat on the edge of the bed and bit mournfully into the apple, feeling painfully back at the place where they’d started.

Malcolm's POV

Malcolm blew the smoke from his mouth and let his arm lie casually out the window. He flicked his cigarette. He was careful to put up a good show of nonchalance. Focus, Malcolm- he repeated in his head.

Focus.