Behind the Silk Curtain

I crawled into my bed, loving the darkness that surrounded me. I had closed my door after Thomas had left, not wanting to look through the open space between us and be reminded of that brief moment that we held. I turned my back to the door and faced the wall that my bed was shoved against.

I had done all that I could to get the cold out of my flat, shutting all the windows, piling on an extra layer of clothing to protect me from the chill that ran through my home but it was no use and I sensed that it was going to be a long night ahead…especially with Thomas just in the other room.

I had texted Yvette just before I went to bed, saying that I was at home but didn't mention the fact that I had brought Thomas along with me. She wouldn't let me live that one down for days…months, even. Just like earlier that day with my wafting thoughts, to know that I had brought someone of the male species home would only raise questions -- one in particular.

It was a question that I had always felt uncomfortable with being asked of me. Yvette practically shunned me for it while others just remained surprised. I'm a workaholic, clearly, so something that Yvette clearly enjoyed so much wasn't something that I liked to experience or have experienced.

It seemed disgusting to me. It seemed like the whole process would hurt. The only moment I had seen it done for real was when I went to Yvette's twenty first birthday earlier that year and I accidentally walked into the bathroom were she was "getting it on" with another guy. Let's just say that I was scarred for life.

And no, just so you know for sure. I don't swing that way although I do know a few people that do and good on them. I support them in whatever they do but for me, that's not what I like. Just right now, I'm on the asexual side of things but after what Thomas did to me earlier, pressing me against the wall and all, I was starting to doubt that.

In the depths of my thoughts I clearly didn't recognise a foreign object pressing against my back, giving me that warmth that I was unconsciously seeking. In my thoughtful haze, I let this foreign object draw me into it's embrace and share the double layer of blankets that now covered the both of us.

I made some sort of noise, not sure really what sound I was making, but I think what I was trying to say was along the lines of, "Whose that? Get off of me."

"No," the voice said, nestling itself into the crook of my neck and wouldn't leave.

"Why?" I said groggily, shifting slightly in this things grip so that I ended up unintentionally facing whoever was holding me.

"Because that couch ended up being more disgusting then I thought," he purred, realising that it could have been no one else but Thomas.

"Can't even handle some squelch," I muttered, my eyes fluttering as I tried to wake myself out of this weight that was pulling me back into its sweet surrender. "Who do you think you are?"

"The warmth that we both need?" he said. "You took all the blankets, Lizzie."

"God damn you, Thomas," I moaned, finally pressing my forehead into his chest and taking in his scent. "I hate you for being so perfect."

He laughed softly, cheerfully, as his arms pulled me in closer so that there was no way that I would be escaping him now. I knew that now I had fully surrendered to him for the rest of the night and I was hoping that it would move no further than this.

"I'm far from perfect," he replied, his toned muscles moving against my bare skin. "I'm far too tall, gangly. A beanstalk, to be exact. My fingers are too long and…."

"And what?" I said, finally looking up to him and trying to search for his eyes in the dark.

"You're so warm," he said after a moment. "Stay with me tonight."

"It's not like I have a choice, perfect," I said, nestling back into his chest and finally closing my eyes to send me off into one of the best sleeps I had in a long tim.e

I must've overslept because Thomas was shaking me awake. My eyes flashed open and I sat up straight, looking around me expectantly. The morning light was shining through the windows from the lounge room and my mobile that I had dropped on the floor and just left there rang continuously.

I swore to myself, hurrying over to pick it up. I saw that it was the manufacturing company that I worked for, informing that I was too late to turn up that day. It was nearly nine am and I could've kicked myself silly because I knew that there was a high chance that I would lose my job over this.

I hung up the phone and squatted down, totally annoyed. I held my my hands to the side of my head, pulling up the hair that had come lose from the bun that I had tied it in last night. As I lowered myself to the ground, I continued to swear at myself underneath my breath, just knowing that if I lost one of my three jobs, I wouldn't be able to pay rent, put food on the table, or even finish of my degree for that matter.

Dammit, Lizzie. Why couldn't you have just lied to your father about doing something and gone to do theatre instead. Wasn't being a lawyer the same as being an actor, only a higher paid version of it? But then again, I couldn't bare lying to my father because eventually, I would be in the same position and only in worse off terms. There wouldn't be a chance to reconcile with him anytime soon.

From behind me, Thomas slipped off the bed and sat on the edge of the bed behind me. He reached over and ran his long fingers over my shoulders, massaging them before eventually bringing me back between his legs and resting me in his lap.

He slipped down behind me as his legs encircled me, one arm around my waist as the other took my phone from in between my fingertips and rested it on the ground beside us. I had not stopped swearing all this time so I wasn't surprised at the fact as to when he covered my mouth with his hand.

"Shut your potty mouth, my friend," he said, a hint of irritation present.

Rolling me eyes, I stopped my mouth from moving but that didn't make him remove his hand. When I tried to speak, it just came out muffled and he couldn't understand me so as a result, I began to lick the palm of his hand. He laughed, as if he was being ticked by my tongue, and removed it finally.

"Eww, gross," he said, wiping his hand upon his trouser leg.

"You asked for it," I said sarcastically, getting out of his lap and went to lean against the wall on the opposite side of the room. "And, thanks to you, I'm pretty sure that I got fired."

"You work too much, anyways," Thomas said, still wiping my spit off his hand.

"I needed that job, Thomas," I said. "I won't be able to eat now."

"Yes you will," he said, standing to his feet.

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"Because you're going to be moving in with me," he replied, looking around the room for a jumper or something that he could put on that would stop him shivering.

As a result, he ended up heading back towards my bed and wrapping himself in the blankets. He looked like a pyramid only that his head was pocking out at the top. I laughed at the sight, finding it cute. Cute? Really, Lizzie? What was I coming to.

"Don't you have a room mate?" I said. "And one that is having a 'girls night' or whatever tonight?"

"Yeah, she is," he said. "But I've been looking for a new roommate for a while."

"You should've at least given her notice to move out," I said, finding it utterly absurd that I was becoming concerned for someone that I hadn't met.

"I did, but I don't think she got the picture," he said. "And does that mean that you accept?"

"No," I said. "I think I can do perfectly fine here, thank you!"

"You know, you have to stop thinking that you can do things all by yourself," he said. "Sometimes, you need to accept a little help here or there."

"I, for a fact, do not need any help," I retorted, taking this as a perfect opportunity to leave the room and end the conversation.

The only problem was that he was still in my flat and followed me into the kitchen were I searched the fridge to find nothing more then apples. Sighing at the lack of something substantial in the morning, I took one of the apples and turned to Thomas. I lifted the apple I held up to him, offering it too him. He shook his head as I shut the door and beginning my breakfast.

"At least come over to see what you could be living in," he said.

"I don't see why I should," I said motioning to my surroundings. "I'm clearly in a good place right here."

Thomas looked down at the bench that he had broken the previous night, saying, "Yeah, you have a really good place here."

I held it in, the laughter that was wanting to escape my lips. I looked to Thomas who I knew was feeling the same way and we both burst out laughing and the damage that he had done. I finally relented into going over to his house to have a look. Before we left, I changed out of my clothes into something a little warmer for outside after having a shower and ridding myself of all the muck that I had accumulated by putting on that awful rubbish called make-up.

From the train station in an area I wouldn't have dreamed myself being in, Thomas lead me through a middle to upperclass street with apartment buildings reaching above us. There was a park near by, the council obviously looking after it a lot better then the one at the housing estate that I lived in.

A smug smile crossed Thomas' features when he saw my awe at the buildings that surrounded us. He finally lead me into a homely looking apartment building, looking like it had been built in the early twentieth century. There was a concierge to the side of two elevators that looked like they had came from the same period the building was made in.

Thomas waved to the concierge as we passed, feeling the concierges eyes upon me was we entered one of the lifts. The lift was tiny, cramped. Thomas and I were chest to chest as he dragged the lift doors across and pressed the button to go to the third floor of a four story building.

It wasn't that I felt uncomfortable while we were in the lift, it was just that in this confined space, it just that I surprised myself about how comfortable I did feel. We did, however, manage to keep our hands to ourselves in the thirty seconds it took for us to reach the third floor.

Thomas let out a sigh as we opened the doors and courteously let me out of the elevator first. I looked up and down the plainly decorated yet elegant hallway leading off into a few apartments. Thomas lead me down the hallway to an apartment not far from the lifts.

He shoved his key into the door and opened it a lot easier then I would have mine. I was sent into a state of awe once more as I entered the apartment, admiring the cleanliness and it's expensive (for me) looking furnishings. To my right was a kitchen big enough for three and beside it was a large room that could easily entertain fifty…even a hundred if you really wanted to push it.

It was decorated with a black leather couch, rugs, and a second hand plasma television with a large selection of movies stored in the TV cabinet underneath. There was a coffee table filled with girly magazines that obviously belonged to his house mate and leftover mugs of tea from previous nights that had not been cleaned away.

Coming from one of the rooms to my left was Stacey, Thomas' room mate. That room that she had come from was obviously the bathroom, squashed between two bedrooms that took up the left side of the apartment. She was wrapped up in a towel and drying her blonde hair with another. Her brief smile faded when she saw me by Thomas' side, gawping at my surroundings.

"Whose this?" Stacey said, her clear American accent coming through as she spoke and her strange twang already getting on my nerves.

I extended my hand to her once I had stopped looking around me and said, "Elizabeth Lee."

Thomas made a face as Stacey refused to take my hand and continued to dry her hair. She wasn't happy with my appearance and she made it evident when she said, "What is she doing here. Thomas?"

"She's taking your spot in this apartment," Thomas said, unsure of how she was going take it.

I could see her turning hulk angry as she stopped drying her hair. Her lips thinned and her eyes fumed with anger. I excused myself and disappeared into one of the adjacent rooms. Luckily, I found myself in Thomas and shut the door quickly behind me. The last thing that I wanted to be involved in was their bickering.

So why didn't I leave? Because I'm an idiot, that's why. I wen't fleeing to Thomas room when I should have just excused myself and left the apartment. I kicked the nearest thing that I could find, which happened to be the edge of a messy bed, and fell against it. Another thing that I had done wrong today.

As I lay there, I could here Stacey and Thomas' voices starting to get louder and louder. I never thought that Thomas would have been the yelling type and it definitely became clear because his voice became more strained.

I could hear an annoyed neighbour banging against the wall of the apartment and telling the flatmates to shut up. It was pretty inconvenient to wake up in the morning to the shouts of your neighbours. Definitely understandable.

Their bickering stopped and I heard Stacey angrily move into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. The door to the bathroom from Thomas' room was closed but I could still hear her pacing up and down, swearing angrily underneath her breath about how much of a slut I was.

I was about to get off the bed and go to the bathroom//bedroom door to confront her when Thomas entered the bedroom and stopped me. I was halfway across the room, arm reached out to open the door. He shook his head, understanding what I was about to do.

"She's moving out tomorrow morning after he friends come over," he said. "And if you don't mind, can we have our rehearsal here?"

"Did you want me to sleep here too?" I said, unimpressed. "Can we go to the Academy to rehearse then? I feel like I was being an inconvenience from the moment I stepped in here and she laid her eyes upon me."

"Look, I want you here and that's all that matters," he said, moving towards me and resting a calming hand upon my arm. "I've been meaning to get rid of her for months."

"She can hear you!" Stacey shouted from the bathroom as she made her point with a slamming of the door to her bedroom.

"Please?" he said, his eyes shining in the crappy lighting of the room.

"It's not like I have a choice," I returned as a smile instantly spread across his lips when I then experienced something that was so unexpected from someone I barely knew, or from someone at all.