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“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, leaning over to put the rest of the sandwich on its paper wrapper on the coffee table and almost toppling off the couch.
“Greid!” Beryl cried between snorts of laughter as I started eating what was on my lap.
“What?” I glared at her. “No point wasting it.”
Somewhere under the blankets, she shifted her leg to poke me in the calf with her big toe. “You’re so gross.”
“How is that gross? The blanket’s clean.” Possibly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d washed it. As I stuffed the last slice of salami into my mouth, I saw all the grease stains on the fabric. “Well, it was.”
Gathering up the dirty blanket, I rolled off the couch and stood. “Want some water?” I asked as I shuffled my way to the door.
“Yes, please.”
After dumping the blanket somewhere near the washing machine, I filled two glasses and returned to Beryl. She lifted her legs in the air, taking the blankets with them so I could hand over her water and crawl back underneath.
After chugging mine, I set down the glass and pulled my hood up, resting my temple against the back of the couch. Beryl was watching me as she sipped her water, and I found myself staring back, unable to look away. Her green eyes were heavy, the whites a little pink, but still so pretty.
We stared at each other in silence, the sound of cheers and the too-loud voices of the commentators coming from the TV. Then her drowsy gaze shifted over my shoulder, and she cocked her head.
“Hey, I haven’t asked you yet.” She pointed at something behind me. “What’s that?”
I glanced back and saw her pointing at the drawn curtain over my nest. Nerves fluttered in my belly, which was stupid. It wasn’t like it was a big deal, but would she think I was total loser if I told her I’d literally built myself a blanket nest to hide in when I was feeling particularly shitty?
“Nothin’.”
She gave me a droll look. “I could just go look myself. Or… instead, I could go look in that closet upstairs—”
“Okay, fine. I’ll show you.” Better she saw this than my Room of Shame. I heaved myself off the couch and extended a hand to help her up. “So you really haven’t just looked behind the curtain already?”
“No, of course not.” She kept hold of my hand for a few seconds before clearing her throat and letting go. “You’re entitled to your privacy. I haven’t looked anywhere you didn’t show me on the tour. Like your mysterious closet. Or the door off the laundry room that clearly leads to a backyard.”
“Oh, shit. I didn’t show you the yard?” I started walking over to the cubby, and she followed. “Sorry. I don’t go out there much.”
“I could tell,” she said with amusement. “It looks a little overgrown through the back window.”
I stopped by the curtain and shot her a mock glare. “Demiurgus like their gardens to be all wild and stuff. It’s no worse than any of the neighbours’.”
“No, I liked it. It looks like a tiny jungle. I bet there are some cool plants in there.”
“I’ll show you tomorrow.” I highly doubted I’d remember offering that tomorrow, but hopefully she’d remind me.
Grabbing the curtain, I pulled it back to reveal the little cubby built around a stained-glass window in the corner of the living room. It was a pretty simple structure, but I’d layered blankets and giant pillows on the base, and covered the unfinished wood walls with tapestries. There was a little lip around the edge for lanterns—open-flame candles wouldn’t be too smart in here—and an ashtray just under the window.
“You made yourself a blanket fort?” Beryl asked, biting her lip.
“It’s not a fort. It’s a nest.” I gestured at it. “Get in and you’ll realise the superiority of a nest.”
She hitched up her giant onesie and crawled in, one of her slippers falling off in the process. I made a fumbling attempt to grab it, but there was no fucking chance when I was this high. Bending down, I picked it up and handed it to her as she settled down cross-legged and looked around.
“Okay, this is nice.” She looked at me. “Get in here with me.”
“’Kay. Hold on.” I went back over to the couch to grab a joint and the matches, then crawled into the nest with an embarrassing squawk of nervous laughter. “Seems a lot smaller with two people in here.”
Beryl shifted back while I awkwardly tried to get all my long limbs inside so I could pull the curtain across. We shuffled around, trying to get comfortable in the cramped space. Beryl almost kicked me in the balls when she stretched her legs out to slide backward. My foot clipped her knee when I hoisted a leg over her, and I mumbled an apology.
We ended up facing each other, leaning against opposite walls, with Beryl sitting between my spread legs and my feet pushing into the wall either side of her. My ears fluttered frantically as I cleared my throat, making sure my onesie hadn’t ridden up. I was wearing sweats, but… she was between my legs. A few feet away, but still.
This was weird.
