Chapter Eight
634 Words
I was knocked speechless just by the size of it as I looked around, "you know how you said you really liked my room? Well I'll swap with you any time you like!" I said which made him laugh, I sat down on the bed testing its springiness, it was so comfortable. "I could fall asleep right now!" I said as I lay out, "be my guest!" he said grinning, "I noticed that he seemed to be keeping a noticeable space between us, trying to avoid a similar situation as that which we were faced with earlier.
"There's one more thing I'd like to show you," he said looking thoughtful, not exactly looking at me at first then looking directly into my eyes, I smiled, "ok," I said getting up and following him out, turning the light out behind me.
"Remember that cartoon, 'Beauty and the Beast'?"
"Yeah..." I said laughing, "Well, I kinda liked the idea of 'The West Wing', so..."
I laughed, "you've got a private West Wing?"
"Yep! No one's allowed up there!"
"Ok..." I said, "So what are you showing me for?"
"I want to show you."
I grinned, "Right, I guess you are the king."
"Yeah... You know I always had this crazy idea..." he trailed off.
'What?" I asked, intrigued.
"Nothing." he muttered as he turned the lights on, I grinned as I read a sign that had: 'Keep OUT' written in big letters, "you really don't want anyone up here, do you?"
"Nope! I do a lot of work up here... Ok, this is my 'Quiet Room'..."
"And you want me to close my eyes!"
"Yeah..."
I did so and he opened the door, I heard it close behind us, "Ok, open!" he said, I did as he said looking directly up into my own face...
A portrait of me was hanging up on the wall, I was startled, "Matt?" I whispered, tears choking me, he smiled as he came and stood beside me, "I had to have a reminder of you around..." he explained.
The portrait was beautiful, more than I could ever be. I walked closer and stared up at myself.
To think that he wanted a picture of me where he spent most of his time.
"Is this why no one's allowed up here?"
"Maybe... I write up here, that's why it's called a quiet room,"
I smiled as I turned and hugged him, I couldn't help myself not knowing what to say, "why did you show me?" I asked.
"I guess I just wanted you to know that you were always on my mind..." he said simply, "always."
I laughed through my tears, "always?"
He nodded, "at all times."
I grinned, "Do I want to know when?"
"You have an exceptionally dirty mind," he said with a smirk, “get your mind out of the gutter,”
I was just about to hit him with a retort when I heard a door slamming, reverberating through the house, "what was that?" I asked, "probably just a draft," he said dismissively.
I nodded as he showed me out of the room; I looked back at the portrait as he switched the lights off, leaving one light that was situated above it on, so that it illuminated it, leaving the rest of the room in darkness. Closing the door behind us.
I was deep in thought as we walked down the long winding staircase to the second floor, "Matt?" I said at last, "why did you never try to contact me?"
"I did... You'd moved and no one knew where you were."
"I was here for two years after you left,"
"I don't know, I was so busy... I had no time to think, I wanted to call you but it was always too late... I didn't want to disturb you!"
I was about to point out that we'd never cared about time differences, we used to be up till all hours of the night anyway, but I heard a voice.
***
- Writer
