I cautiously unlock the door and tiptoe inside with my small suitcase. Although it is just going on 3am, I find him sitting in the hall with the lamp on, flipping through a magazine. He looks up and grins in the soft light as I shut the door silently and head into the hall. I know I look completely worn out, but I put on my best face and smile back. Fun night?
he asks with a coy look in his eye. I nod at him and head to the bedroom to get changed. Down the corridor the door of the master bedroom in shut, but I can hear the soft sounds of sleep hanging heavily in the air. In the bedroom I unpack quietly, while he watches from the top bunk, listening to my vivid descriptions of the evening's events. I want to curl up into a ball on the floor and go to sleep, but I wanted to humor him since he decided to wait up for me. I shower and change into something more comfortable, and when I enter the bedroom again there are candles scattered around the room, and a lone lamp softly illuminates the corner. I finish narrating the rest of my day to him and he listens keenly, though I can plainly see the sleep creeping into his eyes.
I finally run out of things to tell him and I sit on the lower bunk, torn between starting up another conversation or being lost in the cotton folds of the bed. He gets up from the floor and heads to the CD player. Soft, slow music floats into the room and he coaxes me off the bed. Dance with me
he whispers, and I oblige, sliding my hand into his. We dance gently and are lost in the music in a matter of minutes. I close my eyes and the room seems to relax; almost seeming to breathe a sigh of relief. He whispers Happy Birthday
softly in my ear and plants a kiss on my cheek - I smile at him and our dance continues. At the end of the fifth song, we stop dancing, and stand abruptly in the centre of the room. He hugs me tightly and for a brief moment his body seems to be almost lost in mine. This is not desire, not lust, not even love. This is just being
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