If Love Is The Answer, Could You Repeat The Question?

So it's like this: You're stranded in a tiny hotel room, emphasis on tiny, with the man you're basically head over heels for in California because of a fucking hurricane. Sounds like a party, right?

Wrong.

Well, everything was going fine until you got into the most useless fight with him last night, which is weird because you just officially met less than three days ago and there was really nothing to be fighting over anyway. But still, it's day four of being confined to a tiny space and you can't step outside for air or you'll be blown away by the stupid hurricane, so both of your nerves are frayed and falling apart and snappy comments started slipping out. It's understandable. And maybe you overreacted when he kicked you out of the bathroom so he could shower, but he was overly harsh about it. Since that moment neither of you can be in the same room without it ending in yelling.

The main problem with that is that it's a one room hotel, with one bed and one bathroom and one exit for two people. The second problem is that you're both extremely stubborn people who will never admit to being wrong or apologize first, so this could go on for as long as it takes you to get to Baltimore. The third and most crippling problem is that there is only one bed and when you're unreasonably angry with someone, you tend not to want to share a bed.

And that's how you ended up in the bathtub, where you've been hiding all night. Of course, you can't sleep because of the raging storm and irrational fear of them, so you're basically laying in the bathtub in the dark, wondering if it was worth it to go apologize just so you could crawl into a warm bed, warm arms and actually get some sleep.

You almost cave until the reason you're mad in the first place slaps you in the face and now apologize seems like the most absurd idea you've ever had. But you do need to get out of the cramped area you've stuffed yourself into for too long. You carefully stand up and step out of the tub, grabbing your phone and the pillow that you had managed to steal from the bed before being banished. You quietly tip toe from the bathroom, across the small room to the single chair placed in the opposite corner. It's not much more comfortable than the tub, but at least you're not alone.

You curl into a ball and find your eyes wondering over to the bed that you desperately wish you were in and the person laying in it. You ignore the feeling of being creepy as you study his peaceful face and how for the first time in over a day it's not reflecting annoyance or anger. Your heart slips from it's place in your chest to your stomach because you know you were the cause of both those feelings.

You hold your breath as he abruptly rolls over onto his back, the sliver of light coming from between the blinds catching on his lip ring. At this angle you can now make out almost every detail of his face. The way that his eye lashes brush against the curve of cheeks, the way that his lips are slightly parted while he breathes steadily. The stream of moonlight casting down on his face gives him an angelic glow. You can't help but to think that he's almost beautiful. Actually he's completely and undeniably beautiful, but there's just something that much more lovely about him while he's asleep.

Maybe because he wasn't yelling and pointing out things you wish he hadn't. You turn away from the sleeping body as best you can as his angry words echo in your head. It's like ripping off a band aid every time you think about it but you can't seem to stop because it's the only thing that's been on your mind since it happened.

For the rest of the night you completely avoid looking at him, or taking note of every single movement or noise he makes, no matter how adorable him mumbling in his sleep was. Being awake all night gives you time to think that maybe taking this internship was a bad idea, but that though got tossed out the window immediately because even though things are kinda shitty right now, doesn't mean that the entire thing is going to be bad. And anyway, things were going amazingly before this altercation. You and him were hitting it off and getting along better than you had ever gotten along with anyone ever before, which was what made this entire situation seem so awful.

You had just begun to drift off when his voice pulled you back.

"What are you doing?" He asks, you can clearly hear and see the annoyance is back.

"Sitting," You answer, knowing it will piss him off. And maybe that's why this has lasted so long, because you provoke him and irritate him with your half ass answers and sarcasm instead of just answering the fucking question.

"Well I can see that. Have you slept?" It was probably the nicest thing he had said in the past day.

"No, but do you actually care?"

He doesn't bother to answer, instead he flings back the sheets and you can't help but to be drawn to the sight of his bare chest and stomach, no matter how badly you want to look away. He disappears into the bathroom and you sigh, knowing that this wasn't over. You're also tempted to go crawl into the still warm bed and fall asleep, leaving him the chair. But by the time you decide to take the risk it's too late and the door to the bathroom swings open.

You don't bother to look at him, you can't give him the satisfaction of knowing that you're still attracted to him no matter how badly you want to push him out a window. You look at everything in the room but him and you can feel him burning a hole into you with his gaze.

"Are you hungry?" He asks.

"No."

If he wasn't angry to begin with, there is no doubt that he is now. You can't really see the logic about being mad that you're not hungry, because it's saving money on room service, but money's definitely not the problem here. Apparently the problem is you.

"You haven't eaten in like two days." He states.

"So?" You reply, still not looking at him.

You're actually so hungry it almost hurts but you refuse to admit it to him. You don't want anything from him other than an apology. But that's a lie too. You want everything from him, you want to give everything to him.

Except that's what the actual problem here is. You could give him everything and it wouldn't be good enough. Of course, that was never directly said but it was definitely implied and that's why you're sitting across the room from him, lying about being hungry and making him even more irritated with you.

The way that you see it is that maybe after you lose the last five pound that hangs off your body in the most disgusting manner, maybe you'll be good enough for him. You've seen the other girls he's been with, and even checked out at the airport and of course you don't have a body like them.

You're so lost in thought and determination to ignore him that you don't even notice he's been moving around until he brushes past you fully dressed out the door. And now that he's gone you wish you had just caved and ended this. You suddenly feel like bursting into tears and crawling under the sheets and not coming out ever again, but crying over something that is really your fault doesn't solve anything.

Your body is going stiff from the sitting in the same position for hours on end but you make no effort to move, not even when he comes back to the room with breakfast. And there's enough for two people because he's really not that mean to not actually bring you food, and he's hoping to get through to you and make you eat but you're still dead set on being silent. And maybe you should just let it go like you really want to but you just can't.

"Are you going to move at all?" He asks, the agitation still clear in his voice.

"You're sure full of questions today." You mumble, rolling your eyes. He stares at you from across the room again helplessly, not knowing what to do anymore.

"What is your problem?"

"There is no problem."

"Stop telling me there is no problem when there is clearly a problem." He demands.

You clench your jaw and stand up, trying not to fall right back down as your muscles protest the sudden motion. You head to the bathroom but suddenly there's a body in your way.

"Move." You commanded.

"No." He looks down at you, "Not until you tell me what the problem is."

"How many times am I going to tell you that there is no fucking problem?"

"Stop lying."

"I'm not." At this point you're both yelling.

"Why will you not just open up to me and tell me?" He pleads.

"Why? So you can flat out reject me emotionally too? No thanks." You let slip. That wasn't what you were going to say but you're so tired of this and in general the filter is gone between your mouth and brain.

You watch as the frustration drains from his eyes for a second and he finally realizes what this is about. He rolls his eyes.

"Are you really still mad about that, honestly?"

"Sorry for being hurt." You roll your eyes and turn away from him, going back to your chair.

"What happened to it being a joke?"

"There was still no reason to be a jackass about it."

"All I wanted to do was take a fucking shower without being harassed."

No sooner than you had sat down, you were on your feet again, outraged at his response.

"Oh so now I'm harassing you. Okay, nice to fucking know that."

He starts to stumble over his words, regretting how he had phrased that, "No- I- that's not what I meant I-"

You refuse to look at him again, knowing that if you look at his stupidly good looking face you just might kick him. You stare passed him and the scene from yesterday plays over in your head.

He's standing a towel, tapping his foot impatiently as you brush your teeth.

"You know you can just get in?" You say, smirking over your shoulder, "I won't peak."

Apparently he wasn't in a joking mood, but you hadn't picked up on that yet. He shakes his head and leans against the wall, waiting for you to finish with your morning routine. You stare at him through the mirror, trying hard to concentrate on the toothbrush in your mouth.

"Have you even showered yet?" He asks when you're done.

"No," You grin, "I mean I could always join you and we could save hot water and time."

You're grin slowly fades as you watch him rake his eyes up and down your body and you feel exposed in your short shorts and tank top. You smile again as he looks you in the eye but it doesn't last long.

"No, now get out." He states harshly and you everything in your control not to let any of your emotions show as you turn and walk out of the bathroom.

You blink rapidly a few times and force yourself to look at him again. He's trying not to show how he feels but you can still see the annoyance mixed with exhaustion and that's when you crumble. You realize that he's just as tired of fighting as you are and there's no point in dragging this out anymore. He has made it extremely fucking clear about how he feels so being mad isn't going to change anything.

"I-" He starts.

"Stop." You said quietly, and surprisingly, he does.

"What-"

"Just stop. I get it okay? I'm irritating, frustrating and stubborn. I know." You repeat the things he said to you last night. "I was joking about what I said yesterday and I have no right to be mad at what you said. I know that you'll never be interested in me and everything sexually suggestive I've said to you up to that point was a joke, I really do hope you know that. So yeah, sorry for being annoying with the jokes. I'll stop."

You're trying really hard not to cry, and you don't even know why you want to cry because you've only know him for four days officially and you were crazy to think something happening was even remotely possible.

He doesn't say anything so you turn around and sit back down in the chair that you have staked a claim on and curl yourself into a ball. He's still standing there and you're not sure why because surely he has better things to do like have a good laugh with Alex over this entire situation.

"Are you going to eat now?" He asks quietly, no sign of any emotion in his voice, which is almost like a painful relief to you.

"No." You answer.

"Why not?"

He still asks too many questions even if it's obvious you're done talking to him for the day. But since you're on a truth kick you look up at him.

"I still need to lose five pounds and since I have no way to exercise in this tiny pit of hell, I need to find some other way." You state like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes widen slightly, like something had just clicked in his head because his blank expression turn into one of helplessness again and you aren't quite sure why. And he's staring at you like you have three heads which isn't making you feel any better. Instead of sitting under his uncomfortable stare, you get up and take a few steps towards the empty bed when his voice stops you dead in your tracks.

"Come here."

"What?" You raise an eyebrow because you're not in any mood or state to go anywhere with him and you don't really want to be near him.

"Just come here, please?" He asks. The desperate plead in his voice compels you to walk around the bed and over to him. He takes you by the wrist and pulls you the few feet into the bathroom while you're confusion grows. He flicks on the light and turns to you.

"Take your clothes off."

"What?" You almost yell. And now you're really fucking confused.

"Do you trust me?" He asks. Of course you do, you probably shouldn't, but you do so you nod slightly. "Then just take off your clothes. You can leave your bra and underwear on."

You slowly do as he asks, your heart rate picking up and your hands start to tremble a little because he's watching you from across the bathroom. Yeah, sure you've gotten naked in front of other guys before but something about this is so different and you never felt like this about any of those other guys.

You drop your pajama bottoms to the ground and now you feel completely exposed and you just want to cover your body up again. Before you can consider reaching for you clothes again, he takes your hand and pulls you over to the giant mirror that takes up 3/4 of the wall. You feel extremely self conscience as you see your reflection, now knowing that you look so much worse than you thought you did.

"Tell me what you see." He said, standing slightly behind you. You're slowly making sense of this and hating it. "Start from the top and work your way down."

"I-I see dark, limp, fried hair with split ends that needs to be redyed and cut." You start. He slowly reached up and played with a stray strand of hair.

"Really? Because I see soft, dark curls that I just want to lay around and play with all day."

You repress the urge to roll your eyes at the comment and moved on. "I see sickeningly pale and uneven skin with acne, scars and annoying freckles."

"I see smooth, soft skin that reminds me of Snow White." He said, stroking your cheek softly and your try to hide the shiver that went up your spin.

"I see eyes that are a weird color surrounded by smudged makeup that needs to be fixed, eyebrows that need to be waxed, a nose with an ugly scar from when I pierced it when I was 15, and lips that are too thin and cracked from me biting them and I see teeth that need to be whitened and are crooked."

"You have the most unique and prettiest eyes I've ever seen, with or without makeup," He looks at you through the reflection, "you have two eyebrows and that's all that matters, I never even noticed the scar until you pointed it out and it's actually a really nice shape. Your lips are the perfect size and my favorite thing is when you bite them and smile and show off your teeth that are pretty straight for someone who has never had braces."

"I know what you're doing," You say, "And it's not working."

You don't believe a word he's saying, why should you? This was all just a bunch of shit to make you feel better. But yet, you're still trembling and you're sure he can hear your heart beating.

"Just keep going," He urged.

You sigh, "I see shoulders that are too wide, collar bones that don't stand out enough, arms that are too flabby and jiggle too much, forearms that have been scared and abused and hand that are too small."

"Your shoulders fit your frame, your collar bones stand out enough for me to kiss and bite, your arms are actually toned and I've never seem them jiggle once, your forearms may have scars but it's a sign that you survived and I think scars are beautiful." He slowly reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers, "And your hands are just big enough to fit in mine."

You're still unwilling to believe the things he's telling you.

"I see boobs, the only thing anyone ever sees and comments on, I see a stomach that's too big, a waist that's not small enough and hips that are too wide." This is where the main problem was.

"You're so much more than just boobs, your stomach is flat and it would be cute if you got your bellybutton pierced, your waist is in perfect proportion to your hips which give you amazing curves."

"And finally, I see an ass thighs that are way too big and calves that are just shaped funny." You rushed out, glad it was over. "Are you happy now?"

"I would kill to have your legs wrapped around my waist or neck." He said quietly, never breaking eye contact through the mirror until you spin around to face him, not realizing how close he was.

"Just stop please. You're just saying these things out of pity, I know you are. And it's not working because I don't believe a word that has left your mouth since this started. The thought was nice but just stop lying to me okay?"

He smiled slightly and tilts your chin up so that you're looking into eyes that made you want to melt, "I'm not lying. You are beautiful, from head to toe. Everything about you is wonderful, including your flaws. I love everything you hate about yourself. And I wish you could see how truly gorgeous you really are."

And then he leaned down and your lips brush and your stomach exploded in butterflies. It felt so surreal but you never wanted this moment to end. You were still skeptical about all those things he said to you, but as they slowly sink in and sit there, you start to think that maybe you could believe him one day.

So it's like this: You're stranded in a tiny hotel room with the man you're definitely head over heels for in California because of a fucking hurricane. And it's one of the best things that has ever happened to you.