It was a solid ten minutes before Fait fully recovered from his 'thank you.'
She didn't come here to necessarily wait up. And she definitely didn't come to spend the night. She just wanted to make sure he made it home.
You would never guess that this young woman, who could be so cold and confident, struggled terribly with fear.
Sometimes Fait went through episodes where she thought she was going crazy. Her mind wouldn't rest or be at ease unless she saw for herself whatever it was that was bothering her.
It was like using the oven before leaving to go somewhere, arriving at your destination, and then trying to remember if you turned the oven off.
And then while you're worrying about the oven, you start to wonder if you may have left anything else on. Are the lights off? Is the door locked? Did you feed the cat?
And then you question yourself over and over, until you talk yourself into going back, only to find everything is perfectly fine.
Fait needed to be reassured that Chance was fine and now she was stuck spending the night.
When she finally stood up again, she went into the adjoining bathroom to change her tight braid for a looser one and to wash her face.
She had just turned the water off when she heard a faint knock on the bedroom door.
Without thinking, she walked over, unlocked it, and cracked it open a few inches.
There stood Chance, awkwardly holding out a t-shirt.
...
Chance had gone ahead into his room and closed the door.
He changed into a set of pajamas and then realized Fait probably didn't have anything to sleep in. After debating with himself for a few minutes, he grabbed a plain dark blue t-shirt from his closet and went over to her room.
His plan was to knock softly. If she had already gone to sleep, he would simply return to his room and call it a night. If she answered, he needed to find the least awkward way of offering the shirt.
He started to enact his plan and tapped lightly on the door.
It slowly opened and Fait gave him a questioning look.
"Um, I know you didn't intend to sleep here, so I thought this might be of some use." He held up the shirt and she stared at it like it was some kind of foreign object.
She hesitated for a minute before she nodded and accepted the oversized garment.
On him, it was a t-shirt. On her five-foot-three frame, it would work as a make-shift night gown.
"Thanks."
"Sure, I'll see you in the morning." Now that she had taken the shirt, he felt a little less weird about it. At least she wasn't totally freaked out or repulsed by him.
She nodded again and slowly closed the door.
Chance went back to his room and slid into bed, trying not to think about the cold little woman down the hall. Trying not to think about that same cold little woman sleeping in his t-shirt.
Even though he hadn't worn that exact shirt before, it didn't keep his mind from wandering.
He drifted off to sleep with a soft smile on his face.
...
Once Chance had left, Fait stared at the navy blue shirt for a few minutes.
Just because she took it, it didn't mean she had to wear it right?
Fait looked down at her current attire and sighed. If only she had changed into something more casual than the lavender sundress she was wearing.
She sighed a second time and resigned herself to the situation, deciding to wear the shirt instead of ruining the dress with creases and wrinkles.
'He is just being considerate. Surely, he's a gentlemen with all women.' She wasn't sure if that thought was comforting or frustrating.
If she was frustrated then surely that meant she was jealous! But jealous of what? Women she had never met? Of the attention Chance had given them? Did she want his attention?
She rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself mostly. Why hadn't she just pushed a little bit harder to leave?
Fait changed into the shirt and hung her dress up for the night. Sure enough, the shirt hem stopped just above her knees.
After she turned out the light, she crawled in between the sheets and tried not to think about how she was sleeping in a man's apartment. Or how she was wearing a man's shirt.
Her brows furrowed as she tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep.
...
For the second morning in a row, Chance was up and about before his house guest.
Of course there was no way he could have known that she, his guest, had a difficult time falling asleep because of a shirt.
He set to work on breakfast and a turned on the coffee pot. This time he made a couple of simple omelettes and toast.
He had just finished setting the table, when Fait wandered into the room.