Page 17 of White Room Virgin

I filled a kettle with water and switched it on. As I grabbed a tea bag from the cupboard, I wondered if, as a new roommate, I had the right to say anything about the smell. After all, he was subjecting Martin and me to secondhand smoke, which we all knew was equally harmful. If he wanted to ruin his lungs, that was his choice, but I could feel the nicotine-filled air constricting my lungs while I went running.

Well, maybe it’s better to talk to Martin about it first.

Although it seemed as if he didn’t care about the odor of cigarettes—he even left his bedroom door open all the time—it was possible that he simply forgot to close it and would have been happy if someone had mentioned the smoking. On the other hand, Lucien was here, and I had the chance to sort it out here and now. I wondered if he was the type of person who would be unreasonable about this matter, but ultimately, it was about respect.

As I stared at the kettle, I continued to weigh my options.

If the cigarette smoke bothers Martin, wouldn’t he say something by now? The way he talks about Lucien, the two of them seem to be very close. No, it’s unthinkable that the two of them haven’t already discussed it.

In the end, I decided to leave the subject alone today. Besides, Lucien was often in his studio, so the days when he polluted the air here were manageable. I poured myself a cup of tea and leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at Lucien.

He was still sitting there, cigarette now in hand, observing me as if he knew exactly what I had just been thinking about. His eyes wandered over my upper body. I tried to conceal it, but my eyebrows twitched in irritation, nonetheless. He didn’t even try to hide it. If I hadn’t already been topless, I would have felt like he was undressing me just by looking at me. I felt a tingling in my stomach and became aware of my body that the path his gaze took felt like a gentle touch on my skin. A cold shiver ran down my spine, and I felt the cool breeze through the window brushing against my nipples. Although my stomach muscles weren’t particularly pronounced, I felt each one distinctly in that moment. Embarrassed, I stroked my wet hair.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Lucien didn’t seem to hear me at all. Lost in thought, his gaze wandered from my belly button down to the waistband of mypants. He cocked his head slightly, resembling an animal on the lookout, and bit his lower lip.

“Lu!”

His eyes locked with mine, and I felt as though I had been struck by lightning.You’re handsome, he had said to me.You have a nice face. And a good figure too.My breath suddenly stopped. My chest rose and fell. My pulse quickened and a surge of heat rushed into my head.

What is going on here?

As much as I writhed under his intense scrutiny and wished to flee the situation, I hesitated. I didn’t want him to stop this strange kind of caress. I wanted him to look at me. He had already ignored me too often.

Since he embraced me in the stairwell, something had changed. Was it because he had gotten so close to me? He had breathed in my scent. I felt his unshaven cheek against my neck, and his green eyes gleamed like sunlight filtering through the treetops, making the leaves dance.

I tilted my head slightly in anticipation, at which point Lucien averted his gaze and nervously plucked at his lips with his left hand. He appeared pensive, embarrassed, and somewhat melancholic, nervously tapping his leg. The cigarette between his fingers had burned down in the meantime. He stubbed it out before the ash could fall onto the table. Clearing his throat, he grabbed his coffee cup and retreated into his room without uttering a word.

In an instant, the warmth that had gathered within me dissipated, leaving me abruptly cold throughout. I immediately closed the window.

What just happened here?

I searched the walls for answers, but secretly, I knew exactly what had just happened: Lucien had enjoyed the sight of my naked upper body. And I liked it.

No! That can’t be right.

I gasped, setting my cup down as I pressed my hand against my chest. Yet, my whole body tingled, and my skin burned with heat.

I should put some clothes on.

9

–––––

Lucien

Using the drawing folder as a base, I sketched a few charcoal drawings on my way to art school. Although drawing while walking wasn’t ideal, my loose wrist allowed for a rough yet practiced style with charcoal.

Steven caught up with me, his face breaking into a broad grin as he greeted me. Despite his red eyes and tousled hair, he wore his Ralph Lauren jacket in his usual casual way and the top buttons of his Armani shirt undone. The biggest and most vain stoner I knew—and my oldest and most loyal friend.

“Last minute again?” he asked, pulling out a tobacco pouch from his pocket.

I merely let out a grumble, which was supposed to be both a greeting and a confirmation, and continued to concentrate on my sketch. Luckily, I had woken up before 12 o’clock this time, so at least I could walk at a leisurely pace. This also suited Steven––he could enjoy a smoke in peace before the class. Tucking his folder under his arm, he rolled himself a joint and lit it.

“Do you want?” he asked after the first puff.

“No, thanks.”

---