The gentle sun had almost finished setting as its final rays shined softly through the large apartment windows across the old wooden floors and showering its low light over the many books that took up most of the space in the room. It was a lazy evening, Layla had just come out the shower wearing soft white sweatpants and a cream coloured long sleeve top, curls flattened from the water. Steven discretely marvelled up at her in silence from behind the book he currently was reading.
Steven did truly believe she was wonderful in every way possible, someone who was hopelessly also way out of his league for many many reasons. If Steven one day ever discovered a new constellation in the night sky, he'd name it after her. Or did that sound too nerdy?
Layla made eye contact with Steven as she finished drying her hair with a towel. She slightly smirked noticing Steven's quick little glances from behind his book.
"What are you reading?"
It took Steven a few seconds to pry himself away from reading before he replied; "Um, just a collection of poems by Oscar Wilde."
Layla's face lit up with a smile. "A classic. I like it.
Steven's face also lit up, he had never met anyone else who was interested in poetry, especially the kind of poetry that he liked.
"You've read his poems?" He asked. Layla ran her fingers across one the book shelves analysing the many tittles.
"Not much. Why don’t you read me some?” She said with a soft smile, seeming intrigued.
"Read to you..?" Steven was taken back by surprise, Layla nodded.
Steven began to nervously fumbled through the pages trying to decide what to read to her. "Right..um.." Steven randomly picked a page before the awkward silence he felt was too much to bare.
He cleared out his throat then began to read, his nerves was far to clear in his voice from the start; "Well, if my heart must break. Dear love for your sake, it will break in music. I know poet's hearts break so." Before he finished off the poem, he glanced up at Layla to see if she was still interested. She titled her head to the side, still with that ever so soft smile on her face which gave a boost of confidence when he continued to read.
"But strange that I was not told, that the brain can hold in a tiny ivory cell. God's heaven and hell." He finished, removing his glasses. Though he wasn't actually sure why he wore them considering he had never seen Marc wear any...
"That was lovely, Steven."
"Thanks." Steven couldn't help but blush. "No one's ever asked me to read poetry before..Does Marc like poetry?"
"He dabbles now and then. He used to read quite often but not so much anymore." She said with a saddened expression. It was hard for Steven to imagine Marc ever picking up a book and actually reading it. It was hard for Steven to imagine Marc doing anything leisurely for that matter. Though Layla and Steven both knew his past broke him a little too much.
With that said, Layla picked a book from the many shelves and walked over to the bed. After the events in Cairo, the three of them had been laying low in London, usually it was Marc who was fronting during the end of the day but maybe he wanted to give Steven a bit more time out so Steven wasn't actually sure how the sleeping arrangements were suppose to work.
Not knowing what to do with himself, Steven asked; "Fancy a tea? I was just about to make one."
"Um, yeah, sure." She said as she began to read one of Desbordes-Valmore poetry books, he easily recognised the cover. A comfortable silence fell between them, the only sound was the kettle gently steamy to a stop.
"You take sugar?" He asked.
Layla shook head.
"Guess you're already sweet enough then." Steven spoke quietly, mainly to himself but also silently hoping Layla heard at the same time. The little chuckle from Layla was evidence enough that she heard. Steven was partially glad he had his back turned away.
Steven carefully carried the tea over to the bed, placing Layla's on the beside table. Steven sat himself on the nearby chair holding the mug in his hands. Layla only frowned in his direction.
"You know you can lay here, right? There's plenty of room." There was no hidden intent in her tone.
Steven tried to swallow down his anxiety. "I'm not sure Marc would like that.."
"Why not?"
"Well last time we..kissed, he, um punched me in the face."
"Wait, what?" Layla gasped in disbelief before continuing; "Technically he punched himself in the face." She said playfully, taking a sip from her tea.
Steven gave it some thought; "Well not exactly...but yeah I suppose he did, the silly sod."
"I won't let Marc punch you, I promise." Layla patted the empty space next to her. Well there was plenty of room and if Marc did have a problem with it, he'd be out by now. So Steven decided to be brave.
"Alright." Steven lay down on the over side, moving his mug of tea on the table.
Layla rolled her eyes. "Relax, Steven. If you want me to sleep on the couch—"
Steven cut her off; "No, no. It's fine!" He snuggled down into the pillows a bit more. "See, i'm relaxing."
Layla moved slightly closer to him. Steven looked around at any nearby reflections but no sign of the host. She returned back to reading her book, though this time she spoke aloud instead;
"Par toi, ce que j' adore avait surpris mon cœur ;"
To you, whom I loved, My heart had opened;
Steven didn't need to think which poem she was reciting, completing the next stanza;
"Par toi, veut-il encore égarer ma candeur?"
Does it still desire you. To lead my innocence astray?
Layla smiled brightly, looking away from the book and turning her gaze towards Steven, not needing to read the words. She continued to recite the poem with ease;
"Son ivresse est passée ; mais, en retour,"
Its ecstasy has passed; But, thus replaced,
Steven completed the final stanze;
"qu' est-ce qu' une pensée pour tant d' amour."
What is a thought. For so much love?
Time almost froze for a split second as their eyes briefly met until Steven made a move to rest his head against Layla's shoulder. He still feared that Marc would give him a good slap but right now he was willing to risk it for a blissful moment of peace and comfort that he rarely got to experience. Layla began to run her fingers through his short curls. Steven closed his eyes. Marc was one hell of a lucky man.
Steven snuggled up closer to her. Layla returned to silently reading her book with one had whilst the one hand continued to thread through his hair.
Though a part of Steven began to feel guilty from this intimate interaction.
"Look, Layla.." Steven began softly without moving; "you're a lovely lady and all that but.. I don't want to get between you and Marc. I know you two have a lot to sort out."
Layla placed the book down on the table. "You won't ever get between us and Marc would say the same thing. He cares for you. You two have found a way to work together now, right?"
It was true, they were working together much more than easier now, both of them freely fronting and communicating how it was going to work on a daily basis. "I know, i know. I still can’t help but think it would be nice easier for you.”
Yep, Steven managed to kill the mood.
Layla shook her head. “I very much like you being apart of my life, of our lives.” She replied, referring to her and Marc. “I’d never wish to get rid of you. In fact, you should be lucky that I like you.” She said in light humour. It didn’t take long for Layla to accept Steven, not that she had much time to digest it all considering the whole ‘end of the world’ scenario they were currently dealing with at the time.
“Well it’s not like you had much of a choice.” Steven let out a low laugh. Then an all too familiar voice made its invisible appearance.
“Cut out the constant self-depreciating crap or I swear to god I’ll punch ourselves in the face again.” Came Marc’s partly threatening response. Steven’s eyes widened, covering up his nose which of course confused Layla.
“Is Marc threatening you again?” Layla said, arching an eyebrow.
“Maybe.” Steven whispered. Layla let out a short laugh.
“He won’t dare hurt you whilst I’m here, he know that’ll piss me off.” She playfully whispered back. "And he does not want to do that" Layla eyed up the room around her.
Steven smiled sweetly. "No he definitely does not. Anyone would be daft enough to mess with the likes of you." He stared up into her mesmerising dark eyes, he only wished he had half the strength and courage she had. But maybe he was already enough to begin with.
'You've always been enough, Steven.' Said Marc's voice, softly drifting through Steven's mind before it was silent once more.
Steven let his eyes gladly surrender to the comforting void of darkness, of sleep, no longer having to force himself awake anymore due to the fear of countless 'nightmares'.
Layla planted a light tender kiss just above his forehead and that was enough to completely fade away every worrying thought from his disorganised mind.
"Goodnight, Steven."