Theodore watched Malcolm's silhouette shrink into the distance through the opaque glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. Relief washed over him, a sigh escaping his lips.
"Thank goodness, I noticed him while entering," Theodore said. Turning back to Bella, he found her still nestled in his arms. Heat flared in his cheeks as he awkwardly withdrew his hand, stepping back a touch. He cleared his throat.
"That was a close one," he mumbled, nervously rubbing the back of his head.
"Yes… um…" Bella's eyes darted towards the plush bed. The memory of their closeness sent a blush creeping up her neck. She couldn't think of sharing the bed with him again. "So," she stammered, "who gets the bed?"
Theodore frowned. The question seemed loaded, a rejection veiled in politeness. Why was she hesitating to share the bed with him? There was no way he was relinquishing the comfort of the bed.
"This is my room, my bed," he asserted. "Naturally, I'll sleep here."
