"So that little bit was just a farce, and you weren't actually mad about not carrying the bag?" Klaus clarified.
"Basically," she answered, taking a sip from her glass of water. She placed the glass on the island, its black marble surface with white cracks reflecting through the bottom, "Although you could say it was practice as well."
She crossed her legs, her soft thighs rubbing and pressing against each other. "There's gonna be auditions for this new movie in a few weeks, and I'm trying out for the role of the main character's best friend," she added.
Klaus internally sighed in relief.
"That's pretty impressive," he said in admiration. "I wanted to be an actor too growing up; nonetheless, that dream faded over time. So it's actually neat to see someone actually pursuing that."
She giggled, her honeyed laughter giving off a certain charm. Klaus couldn't help but stare, his mind wandering.
"Yeah, that happens pretty often," she smiled, her pearly whites on full display as well as a dimple on both cheeks. "Don't worry, though, I'll make it onto the big screen for both of us."
He was caught off-guard once again, his gaze shifting down to her lips before re-focusing on her brown eyes.
'Damn it, Klaus,' he inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. 'Lock in.'
"Well, good," he returned her smile. "Because you definitely won't catch me trying out for anything like that again. Remember that one AGT 'kiss' audition."
Cleo's eyes widened slightly, and Klaus shook his head, unsurprised by her shock.
"Now, think ten-" However, before he could finish, Cleo's voice abruptly cut him off.
"Wait a second, let's rewind," she interrupted. "Again?"
'Fuck,' he thought, already beginning to back track.
"Did I say that?" He asked, feigning confusion. "Maybe you heard me wrong."
"Nope," she replied. "Heard you crystal clear."
He laughed—tried to—but what came out instead was a dry, throaty cover. Clearing his throat, he forced a yawn, his arms gradually extending over his shoulders.
"I think I'm gonna head to bed," he said. "You know, doc's orders and I'm pretty exhausted."
"How about this, though," Klaus took out his phone from his pocket and brought it up enough that it had a full view of his face. He swiped up, unlocking the phone, and tapped the phone icon at the bottom left of the screen before extending the phone out to her. "You save your number and we do this another time when I don't feel like collapsing?"
Cleo glanced at the phone, then back at him. Klaus saw her reaching out a hand and expected her to take it, but she didn't; instead, she grabbed his arm, surprising him.
"I have an even better idea!" She exclaimed. She jumped down from the stool and dragged him over to the living room, both her breasts jiggling in the process.
Walking over to the wooden, linen table, she picked up the remote and powered on the TV.
Klaus stared at her, a hesitant smile forming on his lips. 'Please don't say it.'
"Why don't we do one right now?" She asked with enthusiasm—though it sounded more like she already had her mind made up.
He sighed, 'And she said it.'
Cleo sensed his reluctance and hugged his arm, squeezing it against her chest. "Come on, it'd be fun!"
Feeling the softness against his arm, Klaus truly wanted to give in; however, as his eyelids grew heavy, he decided against it.
"I would—honestly. But I'm just too tired, just too much that went on today," Klaus said, his voice firm but not oppressing. However, he had no intention of reminding her about it.
In truth, Cleo knew he needed rest. Going through what he went through today undoubtedly put a lot of toll on the body. Catching the tone in his voice, she knew playtime was over.
"I guess I'll have to bother you another time then," she smiled teasingly.
Klaus smiled back, "I guess so."
"Hold on," she said. She walked over to the counter, picked up her phone, unlocked it, and handed it over to Klaus. "Save your number."
Klaus also handed over his phone. "Here."
They both swapped phones and added their contacts. After doing so, they traded again.
He walked her to the door—which wasn't far—and saw her out. She stepped through the door frame and turned back towards Klaus. "I'll see you later, Silas."
"Where's my hug at?" Klaus asked jokingly. It was a dumb thing that happened during his time at high school. Although he never genuinely asked someone that question, he thought it'd be a funny joke. However, as the words rolled off his tongue, he instantly regretted it, cringing at his uncanny humor.
His face shifted from cringe to an instant poker face. "Forget I ever said that," he deadpanned. "Do a complete memory wipe and erase that joke."
He stared at her, all serious, yet Cleo only sighed, shaking her head. "You were one of those, huh?"
She moved toward Klaus and embraced him just as he was about to defend his reputation. A strong yet subtle fragrance filled the air around him, dominated by warm notes of vanilla and orange blossoms.
Her arms wrapped around his torso, her hands gently resting against his back.
'Damn,' he thought. His other head began to rise; the feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest was like two soft and fleshy mounds of temptation while her thighs rubbed against his, sparking an even bigger reaction. 'Am I actually getting hard from a hug?' he thought, face tense.
Not wanting to be perceived as a creep, he began thinking of things that upset him. 'Dog-earring a book, getting chased by a dog, falling while being chased by a dog,' a light flickered behind his eyes. 'Mr. Johnson in a Speedo.'
His former semi-hardy went completely flaccid. 'That did the trick.'
Klaus wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a tight, genuine squeeze. "Thanks for the help, Cleo."
Cleo shuddered slightly, his warm breath a tickle against her skin.
"Don't mention it," she smiled. Her right leg began to shift, nudging against Klaus's member. "I'm sure you would've done the same."
All of his previous efforts went completely down the drain. His cock began to throb, and with every throb, his boxers continued to do no damage control. 'If I knew things were going to end up like this, I would've worn something a bit more tight,' he gritted his teeth.
Pushing against the loose fabric of his sweatpants, Cleo felt the bulge in his pants against her leg. Her smile widened. "I didn't know you were packing."
Her words hung in the air. Time seemed to slow down for Klaus as his hands rose from around her waist to her shoulders. A swift yet tender push separated them from one another before Klaus retreated into his apartment.
"I have to water my cat," he hastily lied—a terrible lie at that. "You can see yourself off, right? Yes? Okay. Talk to you later."
Cleo wasn't even able to get a word out when the door shut in her face. She stared at the door in silence, not mad nor disappointed but intrigued.
"What an interesting guy," she mumbled, walking back to the elevator.
Inside the apartment, Klaus looked like he had run a marathon. Although there wasn't any sweat, the sound of his heart pounding against his ribs said enough.
'What the heck was that about?' he pondered, heart palpitating.
He walked up to the door, carrying himself as quietly as possible. Right at his eye level, was a small peephole. Pushing himself against the door, he looked through it, searching to see if she had left.
There weren't any movements on the other side; all he could hear was the faint buzz of the refrigerator. He pulled away and let out a stagnant breath. A part of him wished she were still there; however, coming to himself, he knew her leaving was probably for the better. Another push and he would've snapped.
He glanced down at his semi-hard bulge with a sigh.
'I need a shower, a cold one.'
After roughly twenty minutes, Klaus stepped out of the bathroom. Wrapped around his waist was a soft, black towel that still carried the scent of neroli.
He flicked off the lights and shut the door behind him before crossing the hall into his bedroom.
Opening the door, a cool breeze met him, stacking the aftereffects of his cold shower. He shivered slightly and walked into the room. The room had no decor, just his bare necessities. A black bed frame stacked with a box frame and a soft mattress sat in the corner, alongside a black bookcase that displayed nothing. Across from the bookcase was—you guessed it—a black dresser that stood near the closet.
He opened one of his two suitcases that he had brought in earlier and took out a pair of dark red pajama pants, placing them on the bed. In a small caddy of the suitcase, he grabbed a bottle of body lotion and applied it to his body.
His eyes grew heavier and heavier with every passing moment. Pulling on the pajama pants was the last thing he did before plopping onto the bed.
In a matter of seconds, he was gone.
<...>