Love-Struck In Quarantine (short story)

chapter 13:

°•°•°•°

Verena:

"What is this?" He stares at me.

"A salon," I smile.

His gaze travels over the nail polishes I've laid out on the bed and the face mask I found in my bag. I was supposed to use it with my College roommate but Rhys would work for now.

"Oh," He says, confused.

"This is your gift, Rhys. A relaxation time!"

"I'm a guy," He says, staring at the nail polishes with terror.

"So?"

"Hm, okay," He shrugs.

I gesture towards the couch and he follows my command. He adjusts himself, sitting freely, his long legs stretched out.

"Don't I get to chose?" He asks, disturbing me while I'm in the process of deciding the best color.

"No."

"Then I'm leaving," He says, about to get up.

"Fine, you can choose," I say, hovering over the bed as I block his view. I quickly throw the black, blue, yellow, red and white nail polishes back into the bag and move away, allowing him to choose what he wants.

He walks over to me and I wonder what he's going to pick.

There's just green and hot pink left.

"Do this one," He says, handing me the hot pink bottle with a sigh, his eyes on the bag I've just hidden the rest of the colors into. He doesn't see it though, lucky me.

"Yes!" I nod, grinning.

He sits on the couch again and I sit on the floor, getting up on my knees as I reach for his hand. He places his hand into mine, and I look away, my cheeks heating up as I sense the heat radiating off his skin. I feel his eyes on me as I silently open the bottle.

"You're creating a shadow," I say, looking up as his head hovers over mine as I work.

"Sorry," He says, moving away and allowing me to work freely, without the pressure of someone watching me.

His nails are so perfect, I wonder what his Mom looks like. Does that make sense?

"Done," I say, moving away and reaching for his other hand. As soon as I let him go, I realise how tense he'd made me. God. Maybe if Miss Anne had allowed me to have a boyfriend, I wouldn't have been so new to the male species.

"Let's leave the other one like that," He says, scanning the one I've just completed.

I nod.

"This doesn't look bad."

"Now the masks," I smile.

He looks adorable staring at his hand, bringing it towards his face and then holding it away again and again. He looks nothing like Rhys. He's a Teddy and I know it.

As I look at him, I realise there's thin hair growing on his chin that wasn't there before.

"Rhys, you need to shave!" I point out.

"No, I don't."

'But you do!"

"Why does it matter?" He asks.

I get up and sit beside him. I hesitantly bring my hand to his chin, feeling the roughness. His jaw clenches when I trace the back of my hand over his cheek, slightly carried away. I don't like the stupid stubble at all.