I grin and take another bite, grabbing the remote to turn on the TV. Heaven said the living room had power, so there was no reason to let it go to waste.
The opening credits for This Christmas fill the screen.
Heaven returns to the living room and sits on the same couch as me, close enough that her scent, warm and woodsy like sweet oak, wraps around the space between us.
“Do you have to sit so close?” I move over a little.
“Why? Do I make you nervous?” She raises her eyebrows.
“No, but it is called personal space.”
She grins and moves slightly to the opposite end of the couch.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Anytime.” She laughs softly.
I keep my eyes on the TV, pretending her presence does not make me all hot and bothered. Pretending I do not see how she is licking the red frosting off her lips.
“This is good as hell,” she says finally. “You said this was homemade?”
“Yeah,” I reply, still focused on the screen.
She smacks her lips. “What do you do for work besides drawing?”
“Are you going to talk during the whole movie?”
“I think I have every right to ask questions. You are a stranger in my place of living.”
“Your brother’s place of living,” I correct her. “And I do odd jobs like house-sitting for rich people and babysitting their little sisters.”
“You are not watching me. I am watching you. I have to make sure nothing gets stolen.”
“Whatever. Eat your cinnamon roll.” I turn back to the TV.
A beat passes.
“I have not watched this movie in forever.”
“It is one of my favorites,” I say softly.
“Mine too.”
And just like that, the silence feels different. Comfortable, not awkward. We end up watching two full movies like that. No talking. A few laughs. Just peaceful.
Every once in a while, I glance over to see if she is still watching, and she is, her eyes soft in the flickering light. For thefirst time in a long time, I do not feel the need to explain myself or adjust who I am. I do not feel shamed for liking a little joy.
When the movie ends, I press the button to turn off the TV. The room dims again, lit only by the faint glow from the generator. I stand, stretching a little, ready to head toward the bedroom.
“You do not want to watch another movie?” Heaven asks softly.
I turn to her. Her voice is not teasing this time. It is almost hopeful.
“Um, I think I am going to go to the room. Maybe freshen up a bit.” I gesture toward myself. “I have not taken a shower yet and I feel gross sitting around in these clothes.”
“I was not going to say anything. Iris will kill me for letting you wear your outside clothes on her furniture.” She makes a disgusted face.
I laugh and throw a pillow at her. “Whatever.”
