If This Is Love || Raura

21 | Film Festival

If This Is Love: 21 | Film Festival
| Laura Renae |

| A Week Later (June 20th, 2017) |

"What are we doing today?" I shout to Ross, who was currently laying down on our hotel room bed for the next couple nights. We just go to San Fransisco early this morning for a film festival tomorrow that's screening My Friend Dahmer, which was one of the two reasons why we're skipping out on Colorado family time. The other being Ross had a film festival to do in L.A. a couple days ago.

"Um... I think Marc said something about an exploratorium and a Sutro Baths?" Ross questions. Shrugging my shoulders at his words, I spray a few squirts of perfume and try to baggy up my sweater before leaving the bathroom and eyeing Ross as he holds his phone above his head while laying down on his back without a pillow.

"Isn't that uncomfortable?" I ask him, walking over to his side of the bed. I sit down beside his hip, watching as he sits up the slightest to rest back on his elbows. Smiling the slightest, I rest my hand on his lower stomach where a bit of his skin was showing, and gently rub my thumb against his skin out of instinct.

"Eh, kinda." He replies, trying to somewhat shrug his shoulders. "You ready?" He asks me, unsubtly looking over my entire body. For our day of exploring, I kept it simple with black ripped jeans, a black and grey zig-zag striped sweater, my black kegs, simple makeup and kept my hair down and natural. "You look cute." He says, sitting up completely. Ross was dressed in his usual ripped blue jeans, his worn out nasty black converse, and a black t-shirt.

"Thanks." I quietly say. "Does Marc remember me?" I ask him. Marc was the director and creator of the film My Friend Dahmer, I mean it's based off a book so it wasn't all created by him, but without him it'd just stay a book. And while Ross went to the L.A. festival with him, I stayed with my parents and had a nice home cooked meal and waited around for Ross to come home so we could go to bed in my childhood bedroom, where we stayed up talking all night about memories of him sneaking over back when he got his license up until we moved in together.

"Yeah, I mean I brought you up the other day saying you flew back with me." He tells me. I've only met Marc once, which was when we watched a private screening with just the cast and the Lynch family (plus my brother and I) but that was back in April, I think. I keep my gaze on my hand, not even thinking about how much I raised his shirt up by rubbing my fingers against his skin. But Ross sat up completely, only to snake his his arms around my waist and pull me down with him. "Cuddle me." He mumbles, a deep breath escaping him.

"Wait." I whisper, trying to escape his grip. He whines and squeezes me tighter, to which I groan. "Ross, I'm folded in half." I complain, trying to lift my head up. "Let me get comfortable first." Ross sighs and lets go of my waist, and as non-awkwardly as possible, I move around so I wasn't folded in half. The end result ended up with my entire body on top of Ross with my head in the crook of his neck, my nose pressed against his skin and my own hands cuddled up by my neck. Ross had his arms wrapped around me, and captured my legs in between his to ensure I wouldn't try and escape.

"I won't be able to cuddle you on tour." He quietly says, my entire body vibrating from his words.

"Yes you will." I mumble.

"Bean, the bus bunks only fit one person." He whispers, unwrapping one arm from around me. Not even a second later, his fingers tangle through my hair and first massage my scalp.