It had been a good concert. The energy was good, they had made loads of money for the charity it was for. Everybody congratulated themselves for being good Samaritans, or maybe Santas now that it was only a week from Christmas, and the party following the concert was a raucous one. Some of the musicians had left the venue straight away, but the ones who stayed had more than their share in mayhem.
For some reason the party had ended up in Ted's hotel suite, and by the end of it he was quite tired. Maybe the others noticed, or maybe they ran out of booze, but some time after five in the morning they started leaving. Ted was left standing alone in the living area of the suite amidst the instruments laying around, full ashtrays and empty bottles. Someone had pushed the Christmas tree over and it was now awkwardly propped in the corner. He walked up to the window to open it, to let the lingering blue smoke flow out into the crisp midwinter night. A few snowflakes drifted in, twinkling in the light.
There was a scarf on the windowsill. He picked it up. It was of blue and violet hues, had fringes on its hem, and he recognized it as the one Annalie had worn onstage. The fabric was really nice, warm and soft, probably some fine wool. He lifted it up and pressed his face against it, tried and succeeded in getting her scent off it.
Annalie. Annie. She had been so beautiful tonight, she had sung so well. He felt his heart flutter when he thought about her. She had come along to the party, and he had seen her laughing with this and that person. It was always difficult to get his eyes off her once he spotted her somewhere. He hadn't talked with her, it just hadn't come to that, and he didn't know what he would've wanted to say to her anyway. He'd had his chance with her and he'd blown it, it was as simple as that.
He stood there, by the window, breathing in her scent from her scarf, feeling so lonely it was difficult to put it to words. It had been almost a year since Carol left him, and after being deprived of their busy family life there were times he got so lonesome he felt like he was actually transparent, almost nonexistent. Christmas time only made it harder. This would be the first Christmas he spent alone since he'd had kids. He was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep, even though the energy of performing had left him and he was now tired. Exhausted.
He heard a sound and turned to look. Annalie was standing on the other side of the room. Maybe she had noticed her scarf was left behind and returned to collect it? The door of the suite must've been left open, he should go and check it was closed after she left. They looked at each other, he holding the scarf to his chest with both hands, she looking at him. He offered it to her, extending his arms, and she walked across the room and took it from him. She didn't say anything, but kept eye contact. She was serious but her eyes were warm, a smile was never far from her face. He wondered what she made of him standing with his face pressed into her scarf. There were voices from the hallway, calling out to her, asking if she'd found it.
"Yeah," she shouted. "Coming."
But still she stood and looked at him. He moved a little, gesturing he'd walk her to the door, and she turned to go. They walked slowly across the room and into the hall. He stood with his hand on the handle, ready to close it behind her. She stopped and looked at him, the scarf in her hand. She was closer now than in the living room, but the look was the same. Serious, evaluative.
"Are you alright?" she asked, quietly.
He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to reply. He wasn't alright, but it wasn't her problem.
"Would you want me to stay?" she asked.
His heart skipped a beat, and he nodded.
"Then why don't you ask me to stay?" she said, still serious but with a small smile curling the corner of her mouth.
"Would you stay?" he said, quietly, dead serious. "Please."
She met his gaze, and then she turned to the corridor and called out to the others, telling them to go ahead, that she'd stay for a bit. There were grunts and complaints, but they went. She turned back to the room, closed the door behind her, and it was very quiet again. He didn't know what to say, what to do, but she walked up to him and pulled him into her arms. He was now so close he could smell her, actually her and not only her scarf. It was the same scent but this was so much better, living and warm, and he wrapped his arms around her and felt her warm, slim body against his. He nuzzled his nose to her neck and breathed her in.
She had on jeans and a knitted cardigan over a t-shirt, as did he. It was part of their stage attire, they all had matching t-shirts with the logo of the charity on it, cardigans knitted in an ugly Christmas sweater fashion also promoting the charity, and Santa hats, most of which had been lost even before the concert ended as the sweating musicians had tossed them into the audience. Some had even lost their cardigans, when they'd opened them and fans had pulled them off. The crowd had been wild.
He spread his fingers. How warm she was, how narrow her back was. He remembered her body so well, and her scent was intoxicating, he remembered it so well also, and now she was right here. She stroked his hair slowly, her fingers were long and gentle. It felt amazing, so soothing, and he pressed closer and hoped she'd never let him go.
She let him go. She lifted his face from her neck, cupping his cheeks in her hands. He still held her, she hadn't pulled away, and she stroked his cheeks and then she kissed him. She was gentle and it wasn't strictly sexual, but it brought back all the times they'd made love in the past, and he felt his blood flow faster. He wondered if she'd be bothered or flattered if he got an erection. She stopped before it came to that. She smiled at him and detached herself, turning back to the living area.
"So now what?" she asked. "What do you wanna do with me now that I stayed?"
He didn't have an answer ready, nor did he know what he had a right to hope for, and so he said, "What would you want to happen?"
Annalie walked up to the window Ted had opened, leaned on the windowsill and looked out on the street. Her breath came out in small, wispy clouds in the freezing air. He followed her, leaning his hips on the sill beside her, shivering in the cold breeze. He tried not to ogle her bottom, which she had stuck out when leaning forward.
"I don't know, I thought you'd know," she said. "You just looked so lonely, I thought you'd like some company."
He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. The streets were still very quiet, but the early morning commute was already picking up. Sounds of cars echoed between buildings.
Annalie had straightened her back and was looking at him again. "You look like you need to go to sleep."
"Would you sleep with me?" he asked, then added meekly, "I mean, to...sleep," when she smirked.
"Yeah I would," she said amiably. "You want me to stay or just tuck you in? I can wait till you sleep and leave if you want to."
"I want you to stay," he said and took her hand. She didn't pull it away, instead she smiled at him.
"Well then," she said and turned to close the window.
They went to the bedroom and got ready for bed, and still their attire was similar, t-shirt and underwear. She put a glass of water on both nightstands, asked on which side he wanted to sleep, tucked him in like she had promised to. They lay facing each other. It wasn't a long way between them but it was so dark it wasn't possible to see her expression, he caught just a glint of an eye or her teeth if she smiled.
"Wanna tell me about it?" she said kindly.
"About what?" he asked, although he knew well enough.
"About being lonely. How long has it been now?"
"Almost a year."
