He crawled onto the bed and lifted my head gently, manoeuvring the cold bag into place, his black tribal tattoos all on display, winding seductively around the sleeve of his arms down to his wrist and creeping out of the V-neck of his T-shirt.
“You have a shaved head,” I involuntarily blurted out.
Way to be cool, Tash.
Tudor glanced down at me and gave me the lopsided smirk. “Err… yeah. I normally do,” he smiled, obviously bewildered by my Tourette-like assessment of his follicles.
I blushed and beamed red. “I just kept wondering what it looked like under the hat that’s all – I wanted it to be shaved.”
He smiled shyly. “Well, I'm glad to be of service.”
Tudor handed me the pills and a glass of cold, refreshing water, and watched me closely to make sure I swallowed them. He guided me back to my pillows and set the glass on my bedside cabinet.
I shuffled to make myself comfortable, pulling down my piggy hood with ears and run my fingers through my nearly dry hair.
Tudor sat back and positioned himself on the bed beside me. “What you watching?” he asked, flicking his chin in the direction of the TV.
I looked up to see an infomercial advertising some industrial-strength carpet cleaner. “Nothing, I was asleep." I glanced covertly at the Greek god sprawled out on the left side of my bed. "Are you staying in here now?” I couldn’t help thinking that having him there looked, well… well… fucking incredible, truth be told.
Tudor grabbed the remote off my lap and began flicking through the channels. “I have been given orders to stay with you and keep you awake. I thought it would be easier to just lay here with you than keep running back and forth from the living room,” he replied, settling on a music channel and lightly placing the remote back on my lap.
“Orders?” I asked, trying to focus on Nicki Minaj jumping around in a pink bikini singing about Starships.
“Yep, from Herr Tink,” he winked and smiled.
Mortified, I shifted my gaze his way. “Oh no, I’m sorry. What did he tell you to do?”
“Hang on.” Tudor slid off the bed and went into the front room. He came back with a pink, laminated sheet of A4 paper. “He left me this.”
Clearing his throat to disguise his laughter, he handed me the sheet, which I saw was entitled:
‘Mission: Keep Tash Alive’
“When did he do this?” I asked, shaking my head lightly.
“Before he left. He had it printed out already and stuck to the fridge, but he laminated it about an hour ago in case I ruined it with my clumsy sausage hands and forgot what to do, thus causing me to fail in my task. Who has a laminator in their bedroom anyway?”
I grimaced. “He can be a tad dramatic. And the boy does love his stationery; he’ll find any excuse to laminate. You should see the take-away menu drawer… he has shares in Staples!” I tried to explain, but hey, it’s Tink, and he beats to the sound of his own drum.
“It’s no problem. I’ve noticed he is very protective of you, so I’m not surprised.”
He pulled the sheet aside and climbed back onto his side of the bed. His side? At that point, I suddenly remembered the scarf that he had left with me was tucked under my pillow, which I realised may make me look like a slightly crazy obsessed fan, rather than the detached and independent woman that I clearly was.
Had he seen it? I surreptitiously ran my gaze over where I had been lying – phew, out of sight.
“Yeah, he is. He just doesn’t like me being hurt,” I explained, shifting my body to the side to make it easier to talk.
Tudor mirrored my position so we were facing each other about two feet apart. “Have you been hurt badly before?” he inquired.
“In what sense? I’m clumsy as all hell and have had a few bouts of illness, if that’s what you’re asking?”
He nodded and began to rub his lips together. He looked up guiltily. “What about with men?”
Well that’s a bit personal.
“Erm… well, my ex-boyfriend was a huge arsehole who cheated on me in a spectacular fashion. I had been with him for a few years and no-one serious before that. I figured if he could do that to me then he wasn’t worth it.”
I looked down to the pillow avoiding his eyes. “That’s the reason why Tink is protective of me; he was my rock during that fallout. My God, he moved continents for me,” I let out a single laugh.
Tudor nodded silently. “He seems to like Tate,” he said, moving the conversation to slightly safer territory.
“Yeah. A lot I think. I’ve never seen him react to anyone like this before. I’m happy for them. Who knows? It could be love at first sight. Like Romeo and, well, Romeo!” I teased.
Tudor grinned at my joke. “I think Tate is smitten too; he doesn’t really talk much about what’s going on in his head but I can tell. He’s a total introvert. I think Tink will be good for him, he might be able to bring him out of his shell. I’m glad. He copes with a lot working for me and never gets to meet anyone on a long term basis. Luckily, I’m here for a few months before pre-production starts on my next film. It may be the perfect time for him to meet Mr. Right.”
“Yeah I’m glad too, but then they have only just met. Can something that profound really happen in twenty-four hours? Enough for that person to impact your life to such an extent?” I mused sceptically, expecting him to agree with me.