The night darkened and ticked by slowly, the noise from downstairs was all but a mumble, an occasional clatter of drinks and a shriek or laugh here and there. Zoe shifted, her eyes opening, she had fallen asleep. How long ago she didn't know, but the bedside lamp was switched off and she could feel the gentle rise and fall of Max's chest beneath her. She lifted her head slowly, looking up at Max. He was leaning back against the headboard, his head lolled to one side, his lips slightly parted. His left arm was still wrapped around her, his right hand had slipped and was resting against the flesh of his stomach between where his jogging bottoms finished and his t shirt began.
She moved her arm slightly, feeling it was stiff from lying on it.
Max sucked in a long breath, he raised his free hand to his neck and opened his eyes. He squinted at her, just making her out in the dim starlight that glowed through the curtains.
"Hello."
He whispered and winced as he straightened his head, his neck cramping up from being at such an odd angle.
"Let me..."
She reached up, found his neck with her fingertips and began to massage the muscle there until he began to move his neck more freely.
"I'm sorry about earlier..."
She began. He shook his head and pressed his fingers lightly to her lips.
"There's no need to be."
He stretched as he spoke.
"What time do you think it is?"
She asked, watching his body tighten and then relax back into the mattress.
"No idea..."
He said, listening to the thump-thump of the music from downstairs.
He reached out an arm and pulled open his bedside table. She heard the rattle and scrape of whatever was in there, and then he held up his phone, he squinted as he held it overhead and turned it on.
"2:54"
He said, letting the screen go black again and setting it back on the bedside table.
He rolled back over, this time lowering himself from the discomfort of the headboard and lying his head down on the pillow to face her. She could smell his breath, the faint scent of the Mayan hot chocolate from earlier.
"So how does this compare to your average Sunday night?"
He asked, even in the dim light she could tell that he was smiling.
"Well it's certainly different..."
She drew her legs up into the foetal position, her shins rested against his thighs.
"I can't say that this evening has turned out how I imagined it would."
She added.
"What was your plan for tonight?"
He asked, enjoying the warmth of her legs pressed against his own.
"I'd have probably eaten my weight in chocolate and had far too much to drink."
She admitted.
"Wait there..."
He said, rolling over again and reaching back into his bedside drawer.
"I'm not going anywhere it's bloody freezing in here."
She hissed. She heard the rustling noise again and he turned back over.
"What's that?"
She asked.
"Chocolate."
He said, holding the bar at arms length above himself and unwrapping it as best he could in the dark.
She heard him crumple up the wrapper and toss it onto the floor.
"Where's your mouth?"
He asked snapping a piece off and holding it where her mouth might be, it bumped into her nose and she laughed, raising her head to take the chocolate from him. Her tongue briefly touched his finger as he let go of the chocolate.
"Galaxy?"
She asked, sucking on the piece slowly, melting it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth.
"You know your chocolate."
He smiled, breaking off a piece for himself and chewing on it.
"More later, we've got to ration it."
He said, placing the bar on the table next to him and adjusting the duvet so that it covered his bare arms.
She swallowed the last mouthful of melted chocolate and licked her lips.
"What do you usually do on a Sunday night?"
She asked, the sky had clouded over outside and a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. She struggled to see him, but could feel his breath on her face so she knew he was near.
He gave an almost silent laugh.
"I'd be downstairs with that lot...getting drunk, clearing up sick..."
He paused.
"Wishing I was somewhere else."
He finished.
She moved her legs again so that they touched his, the temperature had dropped again with the coming storm.
"Are you cold?"
He asked, feeling the chill of her toes against his leg.
"Aren't you?!"
She asked, giving a shudder as a breeze came through the rattling window. Another rumble of thunder rippled through the sky.
She felt him move closer, she felt his breath hot on her face, his chest pressed against her own. He pulled the duvet up behind her so that it just covered her ears, he kept his arm there, resting over her, holding the duvet down around her, cuddling her at the same time.
"So where would you rather be?"
She whispered, the tip of her nose accidentally bumping his as she spoke. She felt a flurry of nervousness at the realisation of how close they were, perhaps he hadn't intended it.
"Well right here, right now is pretty good..."
He smiled into the night.
"But on a usual Sunday night..."
He remained silent for a moment.
"America."
He said at last, allowing his fingers to gently stroke the ends of her hair that lay splayed on the pillow beneath her head.
"Why America?"
She asked, flinching as the thunder clapped loudly over head and a bolt of lightening speared the earth.
"I feel at home there."
He answered, removing his arm briefly so that he could scratch his chin.
"And you don't here?"
She asked, finding she naturally dipped her shoulder to allow his arm to curl back over her.
"Not often."
He said softly.
She felt him breath in deeply, his chest expanded, pushing into her own before he breathed out, his breath fluttering her hair.
"So what's it like being in bed with a porter?"
He asked, shifting the arm that he had trapped underneath himself, which in turn bought him a tiny bit closer to her.
"Not as bad as I expected..."
She breathed. She could feel his skin next to hers, his lips were level with her forehead, all she would have to do was to raise her head slightly and they would touch.
She felt him smile again.
"What could make it better?"
He asked, his lips so close now that as he spoke they brushed against her cheek.
A crash from just outside Max's door made Zoe shriek, and Max roll over abruptly, knocking his head hard on his bedside table.
"Fuu-uck..."
He hissed, clapping a hand to his head.
There was suppressed laughter from outside and someone banged loudly on his door.
"Fuck off!"
He shouted, an aggression she hadn't heard from him before adorning his usually gentle voice.
A ripple of laughter replied followed by more banging.
"Are you busy?"
Robyn shouted through the door, her voice slurred and riddled with laughter.
"There's someone out here for you."
She called again, they could hear other voices muffled in the background.
"Go away, please."
Max shouted again, sliding out of the bed so that he sat on the edge of it.
"It's me..."
Called a female voice that Zoe didn't recognise.
"I think I left..."
The voice paused and was interrupted by a shriek and a giggle.
"I think I left something in there...last time."
Whoever it was could barely string a sentence together.
"Come on Max she came back with us to see you!"
Robyn shouted louder than was necessary and banged again on the door.
"Not now."
He called back, rubbing his hands over his face and moving over to stand on the other side of the door, Zoe could see his outline against the white door in the half light.
"Come on Max!"
Shouted Robyn.
"I'm busy."
He shouted back, banging the door with his own hands, annoyed by the incessant banging from the other side.
A laugh rose from outside
"Who with?"
Called Robyn mid laugh.
"Is she inflatable?"
Called someone else.
Someone vomited just outside his door, they heard the wretch and splatter. He stepped back, half expecting it to seep underneath the door into his room.
He stood quietly by the door, listening to the concerned chatter beyond, and the creaking of the stairs as whoever it was descended.
"Someone's popular."
Whispered Zoe, sitting up in the bed.
"How's your head?"
She asked, reaching over to turn on the lamp.
"Don't..."
He made his way back over to the bed.
"I'll live."
He said, touching at it again, checking for blood.
"Who was that?"
She asked after a pause.
"Robyn."
He answered, shifting his legs back into the bed.
"And..."
She prompted, feeling his body beside her again.
"And..."
He pulled the duvet cover back up over them.
"Jessica...Stephanie...something like that."
He answered, his body shivering as the warmth of the duvet warmed him.
She listened to him breath in the darkness, unsure of what to say. An unreasonable surge of jealously and anger bubbled in her stomach.
"Oh."
She said simply, turning her body away from him so that she faced the window. She shut her eyes and curled her body up, dipping her chin under the cover.
"Are you ok?"
He asked, lying on his back, his face turned to the back of her head.
"I'm fine."
She said quietly, as a soft pounding began to beat across her forehead, and the pain began to spread from her temples.
"I'm fine.