Chapter 50

John and Billie finished in the shower. Since then they had neglected the very essence of the shower, failing to even wash themselves. John retrieved the soap, letting it bubble in his hands and then gently running those hands across her skin. They shared time directly under the water and after they washed themselves completely the shower was turned off. Billie stepped out first but it was John who handed her a towel. He held it out in such a way that Billie had to allow him to wrap her in it. When she was covered John held her for some moments, her back against his chest. He rested his head over her shoulder, kissing her cheek.

"I love you," he murmured. Billie smiled. It sounded extra special in the quiet with his voice hushed. The two were still alone, no other noise emitting from the room outside. Billie twisted in his arms, answering him with a kiss upon his lips.

They dressed. She took extra consideration in her night clothing, knowing that they were sharing the room with another man and woman. She choose the most modest of her slips. John walked out of the bathroom in his boxers and kept on an undershirt. He plopped down on the bed almost immediately but Billie went about putting away their clothes and straightening their bags. She didn't know why she bothered- Pete and Mairy didn't seem like the type that cared about organization.

John was watching her with a smile but it was clear he was exhausted. She went to him, falling to the bed as well, laying down flat and looking up into his eyes. He hovered over her again, almost laying above her. He ran his hand against her hair, still damp, and caressed her cheek. After the shower they both felt clean, comfortable, and in the air hung the fresh scent of soap. Billie reached up and their hands met in midair, she toying with his fingers.

"What are you allergic to?"

He would have chuckled if he weren't so tired. "What?"

"Tell me what you're allergic to," she repeated casually.

He shrugged. "Nothing that I know of."

She was quiet for a moment, likely thinking of her next questions. He watched her, curious and amused as always. "Don't you want to know what I'm allergic to?"

"Me?"

"No!" her voice rose playfully.

"What, then?" he asked with a smile, too weary to tease her. It was easier to play along.

"Bees." Her eyes gazed upward toward the ceiling, her mind lost in memories. John laid down next to her, his head close to her own. "When I was very small my brothers convinced me to climb a tree. I got stuck," she giggled lightly. "I cried and cried and finally my father came out to rescue me. I still remember seeing him come walking toward the tree, his sleeves rolled up. I was terrified the bees would get me."

John grinned. He liked the image he saw of her, a tiny little girl with dark hair and wide blue eyes. She spoke of her father, the parent who'd passed away early in her life. She was comfortable enough to share memories of him, John grateful to hear them, and enjoyed reminiscing through her eyes. He arched his head toward her, finding her hand again and entwining their fingers. "I'll kill any bee that ever gets near ya."

She glanced to him with a smirk. "What's your favorite color?"

"My favorite color?" he repeated. "What's got you so curious, doll?"

"I want to know everything about you," she told him. "From your favorite color to your favorite sports team and what color your bedsheets were as a child."

This time he actually laughed but it was quiet and light. Little things like this were what made John love Billie all the more; she cared about everything from the important to the inconsequential. When she asked things like this he was sure of her sincerity. She really desired to know and understand John to his core, something he didn't think he'd ever really experienced. He didn't ask much of Billie, not because he didn't care but because he found some kind of solace and liking toward everything she shared. He started to realize how much he did care about all the things he didn't know and how he could put in more effort. Billie deserved that. John hadn't quite tried with any of his previous relationships; he hadn't needed to. He had imagined trying was burdensome and pointless. Now, he was surprised to find joy in discovering.

After some time of conversing back and fourth, giggles included, John needed to ask an important question of his own. "Are you happy?"

It was asked easily but held much seriousness. Earlier, when Billie had asked why Mariy would possibly be jealous of her, John had said because Billie was happy. She had not replied. That wasn't something he could only assume was true; he needed to know.

"Of course I am," she replied gently, looking into his eyes. He was so handsome and she could practically feel the devotion radiating off him. How could she not be? There was more than enough stress upon them, all of it having happened recently, but she did not complain. Her desire for him surpassed all that. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Everything is new to me," she told him honestly but without accusation. "Change might be difficult, but I want you more. Knowing all I do now I'd still choose you."

He was amazed that her words could exactly touch upon his thoughts, and that she could say exactly what he needed to hear and be soothed. Did he do the same for her? He wasn't sure but he knew, again, that it was worth his effort.

- - -

All the lights in the hotel room were off except a lamp positioned near the empty bed. John and Billie took up theirs, cuddled together under the sheets. She had been asleep for some time but John forced himself, difficultly, to remain awake. He wanted to be sure the next people that entered the room were Pete and Mairy. With his eyes closed it was the hardest struggle not to fall quickly asleep.

Eventually the door jingled and the handle turned, John watching through the shadows as two figures entered. Pete and Mairy. All was safe and immediately he relaxed. He snuggled closer to Billie, his arms protectively around her, and murmured drowsily to the couple, "keep it down."