UNLOCKED

TRAPPED

He came out of the bathroom naked.

My eyes cautiously fumbled along the words of the Victorian novel I was pretending to be reading, and casually stole glimpses from the half-naked man just two feet away from the hotel sofa I was lounging on.

He was a chiseled masterpiece. His legs were of athlete's, his limbs looked strong, his body was shaped to almost perfection.

If it wasn't for the white hotel towel wrapped around his waist reminding me of my current reality, I would've been carried away and just succumbed to the treat offered before my eyes.

Fuck it. It's been an hour since I've got trapped in this hell. I was supposed to arrive in NY and meet the new year with the bliss and the bad-assery, meet my friends, and just party like fucking animals-- and yet here I am, stuck with hotel towels, hotel sofa, hotel bed,  hotel shits, and a half-naked man.

He was shuffling his stuffs on the other side of the hotel room, and my eyes continued to shift between literary words and tight muscles.

God, he's fucking hot.

My eyes landed on his wet brunette hair-- strands were two inches long and were hanging limply, brushing along his tight jaws.

Then they landed on his lips-- too pouty, too sexy. The light-shaven facial hair was a good contrast to his feminine lips, though.

Then finally, just before my gaze could land on his crooked nose, his grey eyes locked with mine.

Fuck it. I was caught gazing at him.
I looked away in an instant, and pretended to continue reading my book.

"Your book is turned upside down."

My cheeks burned.

"I'm actually done with the shower, by the way."

"Uhm. Well yeah. Sure." I spoke without looking up. I threw the book beside me, stood up and went quickly for the bathroom door.

My cheeks were hot of humiliation. Stupid.

I turned the knob, and the water splashed against my face. The water running down my face was soothing-- cooling the red hot humiliation I had just moments ago. I was in the shower for at least fifteen minutes, thinking of how things would go for the next 12 hours.

It would all just be fine. Just read and wait and sleep and tomorrow will come.

Just read and wait and sleep and everything will be fine.

The first two hours were certainly not fine.
It was hell.
He was hot, but he was stupid.

We had this argument about music when he played a loud, irritating metal song by a band I don't give a damn about.

"Couldn't you play a less stressful song? I'm trying to read."

"Well this song calms me. The singer just lets it all out, and the noise drowns everything else."

"Well this song doesn't calm me."

"Not my problem."

"You are a fucking jerk, you know."

"Yes, I know."

We also had this argument about books. I went into the bathroom to pee, and as soon as I stepped out, he was already seated by my area in the sofa, skimming through my book.

"Boring shit. This book is for old, menauposal women."

"That book is a masterpiece, dumbass. The premise is classical, almost cliche-ic, yet it's still fucking beautiful."

"Well watching a goat pee in Youtube is way more fun. That is a better masterpiece."

"Then go watch some fucking goat. Get off of my sofa!"

Then finally, we had an argument about the lights and the bed.

"Okay, I am now marking my territory!" He said with a loud laugh, pulling down his pants and rubbing his butt on the bed sheets.

"You are disgusting! God!"

"Well let's say I am just innovative."

The sofa was just fine. But the lights weren't.

"We need to turn the lights off." I said.

"No we're not."

"Oh so Mr. Innovative is scared of the dark?"

"Say what you want, but we're not switching the lights off."

"I can't sleep for God's sake!"

"And so will I if the lights were out."

The argument went on and on until he took out a coin from his pocket.

"Heads, you win. Tails, you lose."

I lost.

It was frustrating. But I had no choice but to compromise.

He's fallen asleep as soon as I accepted my defeat. For the next hour, I was reading my Victorian novel, trying to bore myself with all the confusing words and jumbles of letters, waiting for the sleep to come. But it didn't.

I was at the end of the 14th Chapter when the switch clicked and the lights went out. I whirled around to see him standing next to the light switch, eyes sleepy but opened wide.

"Now you can sleep." He said. "I can't sleep with or without light, anyway."

He was a beautiful ghost against the moonlight. For a moment, I felt a deep pang in my insides-- noise were roaring deep within me.
For a moment I was speechless-- the only thing I could muster was a smile.

"Thanks."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes. He was lying in the bed, covered in white sheets and in wakefulness.

"Can I ask you something?" He whispered.

"What?"

"Where are you from?"

We both laughed as we realized that we've never even asked each other our names let alone our homes!

"I am Leila and I'm from Narnia. Haha. You?"

"I am Sam. I come from the Neverland."

"Now can I ask you something, Sam?"

"What?" He answered with a laugh.

"Can we talk until tomorrow comes?"

"Well I'd probably sleep in the middle of your boring talks."

"Try me."

For the next few hours, we whispered in the dark our questions and answers.

Sam was more than the chiseled guy who loved metal music and feared the dark. He was more than the stupid half-naked guy I thought he was.

In the darkness, we've found the light from each other's company-- from each other's voice.

As the night went deeper, we've seen more of who we are in the folds of darkness than we ever did in the openness of light.