Too Close for Comfort

Part 7

You woke up the next morning to the sound of jazz.

For a moment you thought you might've been dreaming, but upon opening your eyes and realizing that you weren't in your bed, you understood that this was reality. Last night had been real.

Whining, you forced yourself to get up. Normally you would've gone back to sleep for another hour or two, but this wasn't your house, and you weren't sure if Spencer had plans today and needed you gone.

You looked to the direction where the music was coming from and saw that the bedroom door was propped open.

He'd let you sleep in his bed last night, offering to rough it on the couch. You told him you didn't mind sharing, but he insisted.

Still, the bedsheets smelled like him, and it comforted you to know that he was only one room away.

Now, sunlight was streaming into the room, tinted different colors of the rainbow due to the stained glass that adorned all the windows in his apartment.

Sighing, you made the bed and looked around for your clothes, which were nowhere to be found.

You weren't exactly sure how to proceed.
You'd never been in a situation like this before.
It wasn't a one night stand, but it wasn't a relationship either... you were just sleeping with your coworker friend, which by virtue was complicated.

With the stealth of a rabbit, you tiptoed into the hallway, making as little noise as possible. The sound of the music began to drown out your footsteps as you got closer to where it was coming from.

Once you'd made it to the end, you peered around the corner.

Billie Holiday. That's what he was listening to. Spencer was in the kitchen listening to one of her most popular songs on the radio, and he was singing along too.

He owned one of those radios that was relatively new but had been designed to look and sound like it was from the 1930's. When you'd asked him why he didn't just get a bluetooth speaker, he rambled on about how you "shouldn't mess with perfection."

"I'll be seeing you," he sang, horribly off pitch, "in all the old... familiar places."

You wouldn't quite call what he was doing dancing, but he was swaying to the music without a care, oblivious of how ridiculous and adorable he looked at the same time.

The sounded of the toaster went off, and he scrambled to go grab whatever he'd put in there. As he reentered your line of sight, you noticed it was toast.

"Agh! Hot," he said to himself as he grabbed the slices and set them on two plates.

He started humming along to the music again.
Just act normal, you thought. Spencer would've wanted you to greet him like you normally would. Act normal.

"Morning," you chirped, a little too happily.

"Hey, you startled me," he flinched, running a hand through his hair. You couldn't help but but stare at his hands now. They were forever changed to you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

You felt a yawn coming on and went to stretch, extending your arms above your head. The shirt Spencer had loaned you last night began to ride up your thighs.

His eyes widened as he not so discreetly snuck a look at your legs before forcing himself to look away.

"I- I made breakfast," he stuttered and gestured to the toast.