Page 190 of Ewan

I see myself in a room like this, reading or planning my lessons.

The door opens again, and I flick upright.

He flashes a smile.

“You can move around,” he comments.

“I’ve already left marks on the floor,” I say, pointing to my boots.

“Don’t worry about it.”

He leaves the luggage down, closes the door, and riffles through the contents of my travel bag.

He pulls out my slippers.

“Would that work for you?”

“Yes.”

I remove my boots and put on my slippers.

I already feel much better.

“I need something to clean that up.”

“I’ll do it.”

He takes his boots off and grabs the bags before flicking his head toward the room upstairs.

“I’ll show you the bedroom first so you can get settled.”

The stairs don’t creak, which is nice, but the more we climb, the dimmer the space becomes.

“I never wanted bright lights in here,” he says as we walk down a long corridor.

It’s lit, just not brightly lit.

“You sleep in one of these rooms?”

“All the time.”

“And you like it?”

“I don’t care.”

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, and a large space fills my view.

“Okay…” I murmur.

The walls are slightly darker than downstairs. Painted in dove gray, I think, or faint blue, maybe?

The furnishings are nothing extravagant.

A large bed, perfect sheets, and nice looking pillows.

It looks like a hotel bed, and it’s probably because he has a housekeeper.

“This is the walk-in closet,” he says, placing the luggage inside. “There’s room for both of us.”

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