She found herself curled up in the center of the bed, a sea of pristine white cotton surrounding her. It was a hotel bed after all and so the duvet cover was white, spotless and crisp. She was the one lone dimple in the landscape. Her point of view allowed an especially illustrative glimpse at the vastness of the canvas. She couldn't help but be reminded of her 7th grade science teacher's explanation of space. 'It's not flat,' he had said. 'The gravitational force of the solar systems makes it dip and rise, as if there were funnels or shallow bowls in the landscape. If you were to roll a ball across from one side to the other it would fall into one of the depressions and be lost.' She was that one depression, although her gravitational force seemed to be particularly weak. She shifted enough to glance over her shoulder at the other bed. He was there, back against the mountains of pillows and feet crossed at the ankles. He was wearing his favorite jeans and softest t-shirt. His was the good bed and it was a mess: blankets askew and sheets rumpled. Plus, it had all the pillows. All of them.
The only sound from the good bed was that of ice clinking around in his glass. His eyes were on her and she blushed and turned back away.
'May I have my book at least?' she asked.
'No.'
'What if I have to pee?' she asked.
'Do you have to pee?'
'No.'
'You're testing my patience,' he sighed.
She rolled her eyes. Although it should be noted that her back was to him at the time.
The sun had begin to set and she saw a small light turn on from the nightstand between the beds. She heard him stand and then saw him pass into her line of vision as he moved to the window. Hers was the bed closest to the window and she watched his body move to push both sides of the drapes open as wide as they went, allowing the last bit of sunlight to pour in. He stood in the center of the window and extended his arms straight up, stretching himself up and taking in the lackluster view. Lackluster for him anyway, her view was delicious. She could watch those shoulders and arms all day long.
She felt a whisper of remorse and quickly stifled it.
As if sensing her shifting emotions, he turned and looked down at her. Her body reacted as it always did by simultaneously expanding towards him and curling languidly in on itself. He responded by reaching down and running the back of his knuckles along her cheek. She closed her eyes.
'My beautiful little stubborn girl,' he whispered.
She responded by scowling and then snapping her teeth at his retreating fingertips.
An hour earlier they had burst into the room, mid argument. As soon as the door clicked shut he reached for her and she danced away. She threw herself down on the unmade bed.
'You're being ridiculous,' she retorted. Now that they were alone her voice began to rise. 'And, I never said that!'
She had no sooner settled into the down of the pillows than she found herself lifted and dumped on the empty bed beside the window.
'That's not your bed, that's my bed. You're being a very bad girl.' She hit the bed with a muffled thump and looked up at him in shock. 'You'll stay in this bed. The bad bed.'
'Excuse me?!' she stuttered. 'I'll lay down anywhere I damn well please.'
As he entered the bathroom he shot out, 'I'm sick of your mouth. You'll stay right where I put you.'
As if sensing her toe was making it's way from the bed down to the floor, he flew out of the bathroom. He gave her a hard look and she wisely moved her feet back onto the bed. She failed to look contrite.
'You're being a dick.'
The force of him moving across the room pushed her back against the headboard. He thrust his arms at her and she ducked low, but he was aiming for the pillows. He snatched each one from her bed and tossed it onto his own.
He was almost panting with anger. 'Anything else you'd like to say?' he spat.
She remained curled up at the head of the bed, but rolled her eyes. 'The Bad Bed, really?'
