“Slash office slash storage.”
He grins in acknowledgement and opens the door.
He certainly wasn’t kidding about the storage. There’s a bed pressed against the corner of the far wall with storage binspiled around it. The closet is overflowing with clothes and boxes to the point the sliding doors can’t completely close. The other side of the room is a bit cleaner, with a desk and desktop computer.
Then there are the bookshelves. Any wall space that isn’t already taken up with other furniture is hidden behind a bookshelf. Some of the bookshelves serve their natural purpose, while others hold figurines and knickknacks, little glimpses into Alex’s interests.
“Hiding your collection away?” I ask as I examine one of the anime figures, resisting the urge to pick it up for a closer look.
Alex is quiet for a moment before explaining, “They’re kind of childish.”
“Theresa didn’t like them,” I surmise.
“She didn’t say that,” Alex hedges, then decides to be more honest. “She said she likes a ‘clean, minimalist aesthetic.’ So I moved my collection in here.”
“You should see my place,” I reply, stepping back to admire the whole collection. It’s cramped and dark, but the figures are aligned perfectly, like he spent time organizing them rather than shoving them wherever they fit.
“I’d like that.”
It sounds like he’s agreeing to visit me some day, but I try not to look too deeply into the simple statement.
Alex clears his throat. “So, pizza. What would you like?”
“What’s your favorite?” I ask as I set my things down.
He hesitates for a moment, then admits, “It’s kind of weird.”
I look him in the eye. “I like weird.”
“Butter chicken. Like the Indian dish.”
My stomach rumbles just at the thought. “Sounds great.”
Beaming, he pulls out his phone and starts ordering. “I’ll give you some time to settle in.” He backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.
When he’s gone, I return to admiring his collection. Maybe while I’m here, I can help him move it back out into the open.
Alex deserves to let every part of himself be seen.
Chapter Seventeen: Alex
“The pizza will be here in thirty minutes,” I tell Euan as he returns from the guest room. I’m already settled on the couch, remote in hand, ready to find a movie to watch. As he walks over, I realize we didn’t discuss how we would spend the rest of the afternoon. Does he have work he needs to finish? Or maybe he wants some time alone after spending all day with me today. And yesterday.
“Find something to watch?” he asks, sitting on the other end of the couch. The distance between us is measured with a single cushion. Yesterday, we were on the hotel bed together with the same amount of space between us, but for some reason he feels so much farther away today.
I’d only been mindlessly scrolling while he was away, so I return my focus to the TV. I’ve naturally paused on a movie in the horror section that I’ve seen a dozen times. My favorite kind of bad horror movie, but I haven’t watched it in over a year. “Have you seen this before?” If he says yes, it won’t be as fun to watch his reactions.
Euan glances at the title and shakes his head. “I also haven’t seen the first one.”
“It’s not a sequel,” I explain as I click play. “The ‘two’ is just part of the title.”
His brow furrows in confusion. An emotion he’s about to experience often during this bonkers movie.
I grin and settle into the couch, ready to watch Euan more than the movie.
Euan sits forward on the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the screen. “When do the trolls come in?”
“There are no trolls in this movie,” I explain, barely able to get the words out through my laughter.
