Eric opened the door and stepped outside, into the cold air. He shivered. He felt in his pocket for his car keys, but just as soon as he got them, they fell out of his hands, on the snowy road. He bent down to pick them up, but couldn't hold the keys for more than five seconds, because he was shivering so much. Now he realised he didn't only shiver because of the cold weather, but there was something else on his mind. He tried to shrug it off, picked the keys up with two hands, let them slide into his pocket again, and decided to just walk. He hoped that'd realease the tension a bit.
He tried to find out why he was feeling so nervous, and almost immediately a voice in the back of his head answered. 'You're nervous because you're going to film the next sketch of the Flying Circus with the other pythons.' It said. He pushed the thought back. He'd worked with them for quite a while now, why would he be nervous now suddenly?
He thought of John, how he was so tall, and how his hair was to one side, and his eyes- what colour were they? Thinking about this, he almost took the wrong turn. He bumped into a street light and cursed. His thoughts went back to reality and he gasped. Did he just really think that? He shook his head agressively, trying to clear his mind, and inhaled deeply. Just a daydream, he told himself. There was nothing wrong with daydreams, he'd gotten many ideas for sketches out of daydreams. His mind wandered to John again, but as soon as he realised it, he pushed the thought away.
"Don't you have to be here?" A voice suddenly said. Eric almost jumped and gasped. "God, you scared me." He said with a shaking voice. John laughed. "Good. Let's go in, it's bloody cold outside." He held the door open for him, and Eric quickly stepped inside, not daring to look at John. John closed the door behind him; the other pythons were already there.
"You're late." Jones said. Eric nodded and suddenly forgot how to walk, so he just kept standing in the doorway. "I had to walk, my car broke down." Well, that was half the truth, at least. "Pardon me." John said from behind him. "Oh." Eric held his breath and closed his eyes as John walked past him.
"Something wrong, Eric?" Michael asked, having noticed Eric's strange behaviour. "Er... ehm, no." Eric tried to smile and quickly walked to the couch. Arriving there, he saw there was only one free space left, and yes; next to John. He sat down awkwardly and kept his gaze to the floor.
"Do you have the script, John?" Graham asked. They'd written a sketch together, it was called 'Self defense against fresh fruit'. That was all he knew about it. John fished the document out of his pocket. "Yes... does anyone want to read it first?"
Eric held up his hand, not trusting his voice. John gave him the piece of paper. Somehow it gave him a warm feeling to hold something that John had held too, read the words he'd written. A smile appeared on his face. "Already funny? Good." John said. "No! Oh, yes, but... oh, nothing." Eric responded, and cursed inside. He tried to focus on the words again.
He managed to finish it without any further incidents. Till he gave it back. When he did, his fingers touched John's for a moment, and he stared at them. He rested his fingers on John's, praying on one side he'd notice, and on the other side he wouldn't.
"Do you like it?" John asked. Eric swallowed and pulled his hand back again. "Yes, I loved it!" He answered, and forced a smile. John smiled and gave the document to Michael.
While the the others were reading it, he was silent, but he felt John's eyes on him, observing him with curiousity.