Dinner was followed by going back to the room and me deciding that this time he sure as hell would not be spending the night on the floor. No matter how much he would argue and protest. I would simply argue and protest even more.
"What are you doing?" he suddenly asked, amused when I went right for his makeshift bed after we had gotten back into the room and took everything in my arms. Well, I tried at least. The amount of comforter seemed to require more space than my arms could provide, but somehow, I managed to place everything less than gentle on the bed.
"Rearranging our sleeping agreement. I can't possibly let you stay down there for another night, not when thinking about everything you are paying so far. I might not know the exact amount this room is costing, but I'm certain you pay a whole lot more than what a makeshift bed on the floor would be worth."
"As I said last night already, I really don't mind, and it is actually not as bad as you'd think," he argued and I was not having any of it. Not tonight. I felt already bad and horrible as it was. I didn't need a second night of him in some sort of bed-exile added to that mountain of guilt.
"I… well, if it is so comfortable, I guess we switch tonight and I take the floor," I volleyed back in a moment of genius. Figuring to beat him with his own means might have been just the smartest thing I had come up with recently.
"Absolutely not," he protested, making me raise my eyebrows.
"Why not? Is the floor good enough for you but not for me?"
"There is a perfectly fine bed," he said, pointing towards said bed as if I hadn't seen it yet.
"Yes, one that you'll use for sleeping."
"Absolutely not," he tried once more, but my mind was set.
"I guess we'll both be sleeping on the floor then."
I could see it in his face, the frustration and how tried to calculate how to win this argument.
"Why are you so set on how or where I sleep?" I heard him ask and looked at him for a moment.
"Because I feel bad. You… pay for everything and yet feel the need to camp out on the floor, which I am a million percent certain is not as comfortable as you'd like to make it sound. While I certainly appreciate your chivalry and consideration, this bed is definitely big enough for the two of us. Hell, it is probably twice the size of my bed back home. I'm certain we can both find room to not… entangle with each other."
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable by sharing a restricted place with a stranger," he finally admitted, and it looked like we managed to get somewhere slowly.
"I wouldn't call us strangers anymore. We spent one night in the same room already, shared a cab twice by now, had lunch and dinner and got to know each other. Hell, I even had a mock interview with you for a pretend job. We can wing this as well…And just because you don't want to make me uncomfortable doesn't mean you need to be uncomfortable. This should be equal. Either both of us are comfortable or we'll both be uncomfortable. Though I call dibs on the comforter if we both end up on the floor."
I heard him laugh at my last statement and needed to grin.
"Somehow I have a feeling I won't win this as easy as I did last night," I heard him muss and grinned some more.
"You won't win this at all," I just replied and decided on needing the bathroom and was surprised to find what I had dumped on the bed to still be there – of some sorts. It had been moved out of the way, with the comforter placed evenly over the bed and Carlos not looking like he wanted to start another debate.
I got into bed rather quickly, not even bothering with the fact that it was barely past seven. Somehow, I felt like this day had been endless, despite the fact that I hadn't even really done anything.
Carlos took his turn in the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later dressed in …nothing. Well, he was wearing boxer shorts, but they certainly didn't help in directing my attention to anywhere else that wasn't the seemingly godly figure I shared a room and also a bed with. Christ almighty, he already looked incredibly beautifully dressed, but undressed? Maybe he shouldn't worry about me being uncomfortable, but rather worry about me not savaging him. Was it too late to consider the floor for me?
By the way he moved, he didn't get the concept of self-doubt and looking at him, why should he? Carlos seemed to unite everything that was perfect in one marvelous human being and body. As gorgeous as he was with clothes, he seemed even more magnificent out of them. Soft skin and muscles everywhere, a broad chest that gave way to a freaking sixpack and upper arms that were displaying intricate art in the form of a few tattoos that my fingers had an almost unbearable urge to trace. On one side a tribal and something that probably had a meaning, the other arm displayed a sleek panther, which seemed ironically enough fitting since a panther was what I'd used to describe the person that was Carlos Manoso: sleek, elegant and rare.
He got into bed without another word and seemed unsurprisingly miles away from me. This bed was huge and could probably fit another two of us easily. No problem, see?
We killed the lights and while he was still doing one thing or another on his phone, I fell asleep almost instantly, nestling into the mattress and duvet and enjoying the weight of the heavenly beddings.
I woke up about halfway through the night, being disturbed by something moving around me, and realized after a few more moments that it seemed to be my pillow, which was also oddly enough very warm. Reaching for my phone in order to see the time, I came to realize that I had taken full advantage of the size of the bed and had moved around until I found myself on the opposite side of the bed, using my companion as my personal pillow - or mattress.
Maybe I should have taken the floor, seeing as I had made a big speech about the size and it easily fitting two people. Funny how I was more or less molesting him and he hadn't even moved an inch. It was all me, travelling from my end of the bed to his.
Detangling myself from him to move back to my side as well as grabbing my phone for the time, I fell asleep soon after once more just to wake up more or less in a similar position just two hours later - plastered all over him again and him once more not having moved at all.
I repeated the previous process and removed myself from him and moved back to my side, hoping that this time I'd stay there. Turns out I didn't, but when I woke up hours later once more, I was at least not anywhere near him, but only because he was no longer in bed.
Carlos was already wide awake and up, looking like he had been conquering the world for hours already. And it was just barely past 8 if the bedside table clock was to be trusted. What surprised me even more than the time was the fact that there was a cup of coffee next to me on the bedside table, right next to the clock. It was hot and steaming and smelled amazingly good.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted me, almost cheerfully.
"Why are you so chirpy and awake?" I asked, admitting defeat to maybe pretending that I was a morning person. I was absolutely not. Unless there was a flight to catch. But that was a different story altogether.
"I'm up since 5."
"AM?" I asked, shocked. Who got up at 5? Voluntarily. "I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to feel sorry for you," I more or less mumbled absent-mindedly. "Couldn't sleep?"
"I slept actually rather well, despite the fact that you kept moving around quite frequently." he stated, amused. "Also, I get up at 5 every morning."
"Sorry about the moving around. Guess you missed the floor at some point?" I asked jokingly and saw him smile at me.
"It was alright. Eventually you stopped moving around and seemed to settle on me as a suitable option for your pillow," he mentioned, and it took me a moment to realize that he was very well aware of my sleeping position last night.
Letting out a groan and burying my head under the pillow closet in reach, I wanted to just vanish. This was embarrassing. "I'm sorry," I proclaimed through the pillow covering my face.
As a reply, I heard a laugh for a moment, making it sound as if this wasn't entirely inappropriate. Not that it made things any better.
"No worries. I certainly can't complain. I tried …um…removing you gently in the beginning, figuring this might mortify you to some degree in the morning, but you just wouldn't let go."
"Oh god, shot me now, will you?" I asked, still muffled due to the pillow I was hiding under. Could this get any worse? "I figure, eventually you felt the need to flee and get out of bed? Explaining the very unusual time."
I heard a heartfelt laugh, which made me remove my pillow in the process.
"Not really. As I mentioned, I get up at 5 regularly."
"Why? What's wrong with you?" I asked, reaching for my coffee and taking a first sip of the godly brew.
"Nothing," he just replied, as amused as before. "I guess it's just a habit. I usually get up around that time for my workout before I head into the office."
"Okay… um… remember our conversation about you and women and you not being the relationship-kind of guy? I start wondering whether the actual reason is that you get up at that ungodly time of day. I don't know any sane woman who would appreciate being woken up at that time of day."
"Guess it depends on how you're woken up," he just mused, almost leering at me and leaving no doubt about what kind of wake-up techniques he was thinking about. They certainly wouldn't involve the shrill ringing of an alarm.
"Anyway," I said, hoping I wasn't blushing too hard and deciding to ignore his implied statement. "I see it stopped snowing." Small talk was always a good standby for changing topics.
"Yes," he just said, looking outside for a moment. "I had expected it to snow a whole lot more and a whole lot longer. But this works as well," he just smiled, and I wondered whether there was anything in this world that could ever rattle him. He seemed cool and collected from whatever situation he found himself in. Fascinating.
I drowned my coffee, hoping it would help me to wake up and went in search of my clothes. The T-shirt I had been able to buy at the unnecessary souvenir shop down at reception worked well as a nightshirt and saved my clothes from another night of being slept in. At this stage they were more wrinkle than clothes, but it was all I had. And judging from Carlos' getup today, he was in a similar predicament. Though, he still looked as good as two days ago.
After a good ten minutes of trying to tame my hair and the wrinkles in my clothes, I was ready for breakfast. I dug in like there was no tomorrow, while I watched Carlos eating fruit. And having a coffee, black. That was it. That was his entire breakfast. All the while I ate seemingly for the both of us. Eggs, bacon, cereal, hash brown, sausages, more eggs, pastries, cake and cookies, as well as toast. Fruit might have made it onto my plate at one point or another as well, but just at the very end.
After what felt hours, we made our way back to the hotel, and I had stepped through the door to our room, when I heard Carlos's by now rather familiar chime of his phone.
He typed some more, stepping through the door a moment later, and looked at me with an odd expression on his face. I was about to ask what he thought we should do for today, when he was answering my unspoken question unknowingly.
"I made some arrangements. Pack your bags, we are going home," I heard him say, moving a moment later to gather the few things be had on himself.