Seaworthy by K.L. Noone

Author:K.L. Noone [K.L. Noone]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7: Day 4, Night, Part 2

Colby’s hotel room, as it had been earlier, was messier than Jason’s own, though not hugely so. That half-full suitcase smirked at them from the luggage rack; a scarf or two decorated a chair in stripes of grey and green, a pair of black boots nudged each other in the entryway, and an open notebook—with expensively textured paper, but turned to a blank sheet—lounged across the desk, along with script pages and sticky notes in a shower of rainbow colors. One note had come loose and drifted unheeded to the floor.

The curtains still hung open; city lights twinkled clear and multihued as jewels. A laptop sat on the bed, closed; it did not have stickers or any decoration on the sleek black shape.

Colby’s bed, Jason noticed, was made but wrinkled, as if someone’d lain down atop everything for a nap without bothering to get under the covers. The heat was turned up higher than Jason’s own room, but not that warm.

“Jason,” Colby said again, either because of the drinks or because Jason hadn’t given back the room key. “Would you…er…well, yes, this is my room. I realize I’ve just told you I do know how to tidy up, I know it’s not precisely evidence of that, but if you give me a moment—if you’d like coffee I could make some, it won’t take long—” When he took a step toward the small bar area he tripped over the other pair of boots.

Jason moved, but too late; Colby had already caught himself, one hand on the bar. His cheeks had gone pink. “Sorry, sorry, that’s not the fault of the alcohol—well, maybe a bit—I’m only clumsy today. I don’t know why. Sorry.” The end of this apology was directed toward the boots, one of which tipped over more, shamefaced.

“I don’t need coffee.” Jason unobtrusively nudged footwear out of the way. “I do think you need sleep. What time’s your flight?”

“Ah…nine? Nine…something?”

“Is someone coming to get you?” If he wandered toward the bed, Colby followed; so he did that, and then circled around and used proximity to get Colby next to the mattress. “You’re going to the airport?”

That hadn’t been what he’d meant to ask.

He’d meant: will you be okay, at an airport? Will you feel safe, surrounded by bodies, in a small space with no easy escape? Will you have someone at your side, looking out for you, if I can’t be there?

I would be there, he thought. The thought shaped itself in his heart like a diamond; like blue topaz, like Colby’s eyes. I’d be there if you said you wanted me. Fuck filming tomorrow. Jill will understand. She wants you to be safe too.

He dropped Colby’s room key on the bedside table, standing there.

Colby sat down on the side of the bed. Pressed fingertips to the spot beside his left eye, as if anticipating a headache, then took them away and smiled: a performance, adept and soothing. “I’ll be fine. Jill’s got a security person keeping an eye on me.

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