Between the Lines | ✓

Cliche 13: Double Beds Are Made for Sharing

"Stay... the night?" I echoed, Elias just humming in affirmation. "I... I can't, I mean, staying for dinner is one thing, but I don't want to inconvenience you and your family any further. I'll just... I'll just try calling roadside again, I doubt all the operators would still be busy."

"Alex, it's already late," Elias said, rubbing his damp arms. "Who knows how long it'll take for someone to come look at your car, let alone if they're able to fix it straight away - it looked pretty bad. Plus, it's storming out there, we were in the rain for a second and we're both soaked. It would be dangerous for you to drive as it is. Just stay over. Please."

"But your parents..."

"They won't mind," Elias said, mouth beginning to curl upwards. "Mum said you can come any time. This is any time. Plus, she'd say the same as me. It's dangerous for you to drive home now, even if your car didn't look like it's about to explode."

As I opened my mouth to retort, a loud burst of thunder boomed outside, the wind and rain battering at the windows violently. Sighing, I ran my fingers through my soggy hair, which now flopped over my eyes. 

"Is it really okay?" I asked weakly, Elias nodding and grabbing my wrist again, dragging me down the hall to his room. It was small and a little crowded, but neat and well-kept. All of the furniture seemed to be pushed end-to-end, the bookshelf neatly organised with a few rows of books and soccer trophies along the top, a few other sports medals dangling from the cut-out slats around the border. Pushed into the corner was Elias's bed, neatly made in blue and green striped bedding, with maybe one-too-many pillows shoved against the walls. 

There weren't any posters on the pale blue walls, unlike Xander's which were covered in cars and boobs - an interior design choice I quickly tore down. Here, there were a few family photos on his desk, and a pinned cork-board on the far side with random ticket stubs, boarding passes and post cards, likely from places Elias had been. 

"I'll grab you a towel and some dry clothes to change into," Elias said, looking me up and down once as I continued to drip onto his carpet like a wet dog. I was sure that I looked like a complete mess, my hair sticking flat to my scalp and clothes in disarray from the storm. The wet clothes were uncomfortable, white t-shirt clinging to my skin and beginning to grow chilly. 

"Thanks," I said gratefully as Elias handed me a loose T-shirt and some dark sweatpants, immediately tugging off my soaking T-shirt. 

"Um, do you have a bag for me to put my wet clothes in...?" I asked, Elias blinking for a second before nodding quickly. 

"Y-Yeah, I'll go and get you a bag. We... We can wash them in the morning before you leave. Um, just leave them on the floor for now and change into the dry clothes. I'll also tell my parents that you're staying, I'll be back soon," Elias said, whizzing past me and closing the door with a quiet click. 

"Okay," I said to myself in the emptiness of Elias's room, smiling at the way he was in such a rush to cater for his guest. He really was very considerate, Aubrey is one lucky girl. 

"Ugh, but why am I the one stuck in this situation?" I grumbled to myself as I shucked off my rain-soaked jeans and neatly dropped them by the foot of Elias's bed beside my T-shirt. "Why couldn't mother nature decide to mess with Aubrey instead. This would've been a great opportunity for her and Elias to get together, but noooo, he just gets stuck with this sack of abs made of bricks instead. Any dude would prefer to get stuck inside during a storm with their crush, not with the designated third wheel. That damned author, the second lead's misfortune never ends, huh?"

As I mumbled frustratedly to myself, I slipped on Elias's clothes, which smelled of his fabric softener - a clean and fresh scent. Luckily, Elias was roughly the same size as me, though his body was made of leaner muscle and slightly less bulky. The clothes he gave me were of a baggy fit, and hung comfortably on my body, far better than the sticky coldness of my own wet clothes.