Too Much To Hide || EDITING

c.10

      I'm awake but I'm too lazy to open my eyes. Clamped shut from weariness, I somehow manage to pry them open, having to blink a couple of times to get used to everything. The soft bedding curls up into my fists as I stretch my legs. That was one fantastic sleep.

      I get a bearing of my surroundings and remember that I'm not in my bed. Hell, I'm not even in my house. My elbows help me up as I lean against the header so I can rub the sleep from my heavy eyes.

      My gaze falls down to the empty space beside me. Hold on, where's James? Sudden panic washes over me as I scramble over to the other side of the bed, peering over the edge. No, he hasn't rolled onto the floor. Thank God. 

      My first instinct is to alert Adrian but even he is missing from his makeshift bed. Now that I really look around, I notice his pillow is back in place and the two throw pillows that lined the precipice of the bed have been returned to their rightful positions on the couch opposite the bed.

      Perhaps Adrian woke up earlier than me and took James downstairs. The vintage Victorian style clock above the couch confirms my suspicions; it's almost twelve in the afternoon. Yes, it's me who overslept. The duvet that has tangled itself in my legs gets pushed off as I swing my legs over the mattress and onto the floor. 

      As I scratch my stomach idly, I remember Adrian's baggy shirt hanging loosely off my shoulder. Its warmth helped me sleep last night and the material is beyond my expectations of comfort. It'll be hard to say goodbye to it. 

      Before I stand up, I notice, at the foot of the bed, an outfit prepared neatly on top of the bed sheet. Furrowing my eyebrows, I lean over to inspect the clothing.

      A pink, Nike women's t-shirt sits, flattened out, on top of a pair of yoga tights. On each item, a flimsy tag hangs off, showcasing its brand new state. I don't recall mentioning myself working out or anything? Curious, I turn over the tags.

      They're both official Nike merchandise, the tights in a price range of sixty to ninety dollars. My conscience shifts uncomfortably. Usually I don't jump to conclusions but it seems like these are for me. They look like they can fit me and plus, if these weren't intended for me, then why are they kept near where I was sleeping? I connect the dots and sigh, grabbing the tee and pants.

      To my shock, a nude lingerie reveals itself as I pick up the outfit. My conscience is not enjoying the show at all. Did Adrian seriously go to this much trouble? As much as I try to convince myself he wouldn't give a shit, I can't think of anyone else who would do this. A groan escapes my lips as I also collect the lingerie and head to the bathroom, remembering to pick up my towel from the bench on my way. 

      I take my morning shower, which is pretty normal if you don't count the fact that I'm in an overly designed bathroom that looks like an architect's dream. A bar of pink soap sits on the cement shelf next to the bottles of shower gel and a small smile quirks on my face.

      I finish up with my shower, stepping out smelling like roses. I'll be sure to buy that soap when I'm home. This time, I washed my hair as well, having no choice but to use Adrian's own shampoo. Due to this, it feels stringy and its natural softness is tainted by the musk of men's shampoo. Shrugging with a twinge of regret, I rub the towel through my hair and try out the lingerie. Scarily perfect fit.

      I put on the sports attire and revel in the softness of its fabric. It tickles against my thighs and I pinch the leggings several times to get rid of the irritating sensation until I'm satisfied that it doesn't bother me.

      The mouthwash calls to my dry mouth but the sight of an unopened toothbrush surprises me. He even got me a toothbrush. Gratitude engulfs me as I grab the brush and break it out of its cardboard and plastic covers. Thankful for not having to use the harsh mouthwash, I squirt some toothpaste onto the bristles and clean my teeth.