Free Web NovelChapter 79: THE MOVIE
KEISHA’S POV
He took the plates to the sitting room instead of the dining table.
I followed and found him setting them on the low table in front of the sofa, reaching for the television remote and I stood in the doorway and watched him and thought— what is happening right now?
It was almost two in the morning and Callum was in his sitting room in his sleep clothes setting up what was very clearly an attempt at something between us and I wasn’t leaving.
I should have been leaving but instead, I sat down on the sofa.
He turned the television on, navigated through some movies and I opened my mouth to say it didn’t matter what we watched when the title card came up on the screen.
I stared at it.
"That’s the movie." I deadpanned.
He sat down beside me. "What movie?" He said like he didn’t know.
"The one I mentioned in the kitchen." I looks at him. "When I was talking about Lyra and the pasta. I said I’d wanted to watch it while eating this."
He picked up his fork. "Hm." He said.
"Callum." I raised a brow.
"Eat." He said. "It’s getting cold."
I looked at him but he looked at the screen.
I picked up my fork and ate quietly. The movie started and the pasta was good, genuinely good even by Lyra’s standards, and the sitting room was quiet as Callum was beside me close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him but I told myself to watch the movie.
I watched the movie for approximately four minutes.
Then I started watching him watching the movie instead.
Because yes, that was better entertainment.
He had his plate balanced on his knee and his attention was on the screen and his face in the television light was slightly softer, the lines around his eyes less pronounced. He looked younger like this.
He looked over and I looked at the screen immediately.
"How’s the pasta?" He asked.
"Good." I muttered. "You’re welcome."
"I could have made it." He said.
"With the matches?" I huffed.
"With the lighter." He said. "Once I had the lighter."
"The lighter I found." I smirked.
"In my kitchen." He nudged me lightly. "In my drawer."
I looked at him. "Are you trying to take credit for this meal?"
"I provided the kitchen." He chuckled. .
"That’s not how cooking works." I said.
"It’s a contribution." He shrugged.
I stared at him and he looked at the screen with an expression of complete innocence.
I turned back to the movie and ate my pasta quietly again, because the film was good, actually good, the kind that pulled you in despite yourself and after a while I stopped thinking about anything else and just watched it properly. Laughed at the parts that were funny, genuinely laughed, and at some point I realised I was leaning slightly toward him without having decided to and his shoulder was right there and I didn’t move away. ƒгeewёbnovel.com
He didn’t move either.
We watched the movie and ate at half past one in the morning and the house was quiet around us.
When the credits rolled I sat there for a moment looking at the screen. freēwēbnovel.com
Then I picked up both plates, took them to the kitchen and came back, got my water glass from the side table and turned toward the stairs.
"Thank you." I muttered and I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned back to look at him still on the sofa with the television light on his face. "For the movie. And the—" I gestured at the kitchen. "Company."
He looked at me. "Goodnight, Keisha." He said.
"Goodnight." I smiled.
I went upstairs and got into the guest bed where I lay there in the dark and pressed my hands over my face and thought about everything.
Diane was extremely smug.
Of course she was.
***********
The days after moved quickly. The weekend ended and Monday came and I was back at my desk in the communications office with my queue in front of me.
It was good to be back at something ordinary.
I worked through the morning, documented two sets of logs, helped Evelyn with a cross referencing task her supervisor had dumped on her at the last minute.
"You don’t have to." She said when I pulled my chair around.
"I know." I laughed. "Move over."
We finished it in forty minutes and she looked relieved. "I owe you." She gushed.
"You brought me lunch that one time." I reminded her. "We’re even."
"That was one container of food." She said. "This was forty minutes of my crisis."
"Evelyn." I laughed.
"I’m getting you something good from the market." She said firmly. "Don’t argue."
I didn’t argue.
Lunch came and I took my coffee and walked instead of sitting at my desk because my back hurt and the afternoon was clear.
I walked the long way around.
Past the east gardens, down the residential path, and when I came around the curve, my house was there so I slowed down.
Things were... Different.
The door was new. Solid dark wood with a clean frame and a proper lock. I stopped and looked at it and then looked at the rest of the house and realised the door wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
The windows too had changed.
Both of them facing the path had been replaced. Thicker glass, better frames. The exterior wall beside the door had fresh paint, clean and even where the old scuffed section had been. The porch light was new too, brighter than the old one.
I stood there with my coffee, my expression doing something between shock and happiness.
It looked like someone had actually taken care of it. Not just fixed the damage. Taken care of it like it mattered.
My heart bloomed warmly as I stared at it. Then I heard a very familiar voice behind me that made me go still.
"Do you like it?"
