“Why would it not be? Though, be warned, it’s very late and I intend to put you straight to bed.”
I nearly asked,Will you tuck me in?But I remembered just in time I was trying to be a less terrible person. “What about Nathaniel?”
“He prefers to sleep at his house.”
“No. I mean, if I was Nathaniel, I would not want someone who felt towards you the way I do spending the night.”
His eyes widened. “You’ve had a very traumatic experience, and have come to me for help. Surely you don’t think I’m going to take advantage of you?”
“What ifItake advantage ofyou?”
That brought a touch of pink to his cheeks. “Are you going to?”
I gave the matter due consideration. It seemed only fair. “Probably not. I’m not exactly oozing with sexiness right now.”
“In which case, Nathaniel has nothing to object to.”
Somehow I managed not to literally facepalm. “I’m not sure it works like that, Caspian.”
“Go to bed. I do actually need to call him.”
Who would’ve thought being summarily ordered about could be something you’d miss? But I did. Well, being summarily ordered about by Caspian anyway. If I’d been into that sort of thing in general, I could have joined the army.
His bedroom hadn’t changed either—it was still this chill, bed-containing bubble that seemed to float Philip K. Dick style above the overturned jewellery box of the city. I breached the sanctity of the glass-smooth duvet and pulled it up to my chin, feeling about as weird as I had the last time I’d slept over at Caspian’s. Which, hey, looking on the bright side: At least I didn’t feelmoreweird. It was the lack of intimacy, I think, that gave me the willies—not so much the fact that neither I nor Nathaniel had managed to leave even the slightest trace of ourselves here, but the complete absence of Caspian too. Even the sheets were starkly fresh and scentless. Combined with the expensive cloudiness of the mattress, it made me feel like I was nowhere.
Pushing back the covers, I leaned over the edge of the bed and peered underneath, and was so relieved to see the battered box full of sci-fi and fantasy books that used to belong to Caspian’s father was still there. It was probably the most Caspian thing in the whole place. Definitely the most human. I couldn’t bear to think what it might have meant if he’d packed them away. And besides, I loved the image of him, amidst all this stark design and silence, curled up with some cheesy adventure novel from the eighties. In an ideal world, I would have been snuggled up next to him, of course. But if I couldn’t be, I needed to be able to picture him happy.
“What are you doing?”
Oh shit. That was Caspian. Addressing himself politely to my arse, which was right up in the air. I flipped proper-way-up as gracefully as I could, which was to say not very. “Um, nothing. I mean, just…looking. Around. How was Nathaniel?”
“Not inclined to answer his phone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s rather childish of him.”
I was really not in the mood to defend Nathaniel. But I tried anyway. “He’s hurt.”
“You needed me.”
“I did, so I’m not going to argue with you about it. But he should be your priority, Caspian.”
“My priorities are determined by objective standards of urgency, not by sentiment. There will be other concerts. You would not have come to find me were it not truly important.”
“That’s”—my brain fiddled with that idea like it was a Rubik’s Cube it couldn’t solve—“really cold and really nice at the same time.”
Caspian gave me one of his smallest smiles. “Thank you. I just came to check you were comfortable. Is there anything else you require?”
“No, I’m good, I think. But where will you sleep?”
“I have some work to finish. And the sofa is perfectly comfortable.”
I retucked myself in the duvet. “I guess having made a big fuss about Nathaniel’s feelings, it would be epically hypocritical to suggest you come in with me?”
“I wouldn’t go quite as far as hypocritical,” he said. “But it would certainly be inconsistent.”
“I won’t jump your bones.”
