Chapter 40: Imoen

So, it's a pretty typical night…got my sleepin' clothes on, washed up, did some reading, (bought a really interesting book about Winter Wolves from the guy at the store…did you know they emigrate all the way here from Icewind Dale? I sure didn't!) the whole…thing.

The thing, whatever it is, that you end up doing to get sleepy. I know for some people it's quite a ritual. Xzar can't go to sleep without singing some ridiculous lullaby, Kivan's got to sharpen so many arrows, everybody's got a thing, ya know?

Anyway, It's a pretty normal night…except I'm not in my room. I'm in Bryce's.

What the Hells am I doing in his room? Good point. Honestly, I'm not really sure myself.

I got all the way here, jimmied the lock on his door, left…let's call it a special surprise under his pillow, and now I'm not sure if any of this was a good idea.

Sometimes, you get these plans in your mind, and you think about them over and over, where you're going to be, what you're going to say or do, and then you get there. The big moment. The moment when you pull it off. You wonder, how did I get here? Was any of this even worth it?

I dig my hands into his sheets, stand up off the bed, walk around a bit. The room doesn't really smell like him yet. Oh gods, that's a weird thing to think. Of course it doesn't, we haven't been staying here for long enough for it to smell like anyone, right? Why would I even think about something like that?

And there's still the weirdest question of all…do I know what he smells like? I know he's been talking about that sort of thing a lot, noticing all these new wonderful sensations, like…people's smell. I dig my hands into my forehead, trying to massage away my confusion, maybe bewilderment would be a better word. Maybe I'm just nervous? I don't end up in a lot of guys' rooms, as you might imagine -

Gods, he's here. Okay, Imoen, act natural, you can do this! I clamber back onto the bed, as I hear the floorboards outside creak a bit, signaling his approach.

So, it's Bryce we're talking about. First thing he's gonna notice…

The door. He's going to deduce that someone tampered with his door. It's not shut and locked in the same way it was when he left. The knob jiggles this way and that. Okay, so he knows it's not locked. Now, what's he going to do next…?

He…knocks? Oh, I kind of thought he was going to creak it open, dash in, check for intruders, that sort of thing.

I get up, take a few steps over, take a deep breath; my poor nerves! Come on, this is your best friend! He'll be…happy, to see you…in his room. In the middle of the night.

How did I get here?

I open the door.

"I figured it was you." He steps into the room, as I take a step away and let him in.

"How'd you guess it?" I scratch at some hair.

"Let's just say I can sense people through closed doors." He says, shutting said door as he continues. "At least, if I've known them long enough."

"You're really starting to get a handle on these…powers? Of yours."

He grunts, vaguely affirming. He can't help but look up and down at me. "I don't mean to be rude, but…" what am I wearing, he's going to ask.

"What are you wearing?"

"Don't you like it?" I smile, showing it off with my hands. A bit of negligee that I picked up at some point, pink, of course! Still in pretty good condition, considering the…sensitive nature of the material, how much of the elements we've been exposed to (wind, rain, blegh!)

He sighs. "Somehow, I just don't think it suits you."

"What? Come on, everything suits me! So long as…"

"So long as it's pink, of course." He finishes my sentence. Ah ha! A smile! "What are you even doing in here? It's well past curfew."

I laugh. "How long has it been since we've had to worry about stinkin' curfew? You really are turning into Ol' Stick in the Mud, ain't ya?"

"That's…Gods, you're right. I'm sorry, I just –"

"Aw, just teasin'!"

He looks up at me. For a few beats, he looks.

Um.

I swallow. I blink a couple of times. I feel…a prickling sensation crawl up my arms, my neck. Goosebumps?

I try, desperately, to get us talking, instead of making this really…uh, dramatic eye contact.

"Do you remember all the times we'd go out camping and spend the night outside, I mean, it was always such a crazy thing to do, can you believe that the Watchers and everybody else never even came to look for us, I mean, what if we ended up stranded out there and never managed to make it back, we'd never hear the end of it, let's not forget all the times we'd wake up and find random old guys walking around trying to get into Candlekeep, I mean, do you remember the guy with the book about the Dead Three, I dunno how that guy was ever going to get in, that thing ends up on every shelf in the Realms, he must've been out of his gourd –"

Bryce holds up a hand. Oh gods, I started babbling!

"I do remember. I remember you'd never let me pick where we ended up sleeping." He's still smiling. Oh, it makes me feel good to see him smile!

Yes!

"Well, it's because you always picked the worst spots! Nothin' but trees and bushes and sticks! Couldn't even see the stars!"

"Even back then, I just wanted us to be safe. I always picked places with the best cover, the most defensible positions." He mulls it over for a second, going on. "But you…you just wanted to look up at the stars. You always had an eye for beauty."

Woah, woah, woah. I think I see where this is going.

He takes a few…steps…closer. Oh gods, he's close now. He puts his hands on my distressingly bare shoulders.

"All those nights we slept next to each other, and I never got something through my thick skull." He looks me right in the eye. "I'd spend hours looking up at those stars next to you, but there was something missing. Something I never ended up putting my finger on."

I nod, and he starts moving his hands back and forth on my shoulders. The prickling is intensifying. I swallow again. Did the air get drier in here, or am I thirsty or something?

"I never turned over and looked next to me. There was something beautiful, something worth more than all those lights up there in the sky, something…someone, irreplaceable. For twenty years, I missed what was right in front of me."

All I could think to do was clarify. That kind of talk…um, not exactly my area of expertise. "…Me?"

"You."

And he leans in and oh gods he's closing his eyes and getting closer and closer and closer and

now I feel his lips against mine and everything's short-circuiting in my brain and

his forehead's pressing up against mine and he smells so good and he's still kissing me and

he leans me back into the bed and we're crawling up and up and THE SURPRISE?

OH GODS, DON'T LET YOUR HEAD TOUCH THE PILLOW DON'T RUIN –

A horrible noise rings out, shattering the mood into a trillion little pieces.

A disgusting, bodily noise.

For several seconds, I just want to die. I think, in fact, that noise may have pierced my heart and killed me, and any second now, an angel's going to come from a Plane of Idiotic Pranksters and take my soul away for eternal punishment.

Bryce reaches behind my head, pulls out the offender from under the pillow, and takes a good look at it. "Not a bad bit, all things considered."

The two of us sit up, and he tosses The Worst Surprise I've Ever Thought Of away.

"Um, yeah, I really had you going there, didn't I?" I laugh, palpably anxious.

"I think you had a good idea in mind, and that it didn't quite go the way you had worked it out." He offers…a pretty reasonable, direct summary of current events.

"Well, it was supposed to be your head on the pillow. I didn't quite turn ya over in time." I knead some fingers together, trying to calm down.

"Oh, I see."

I look at him. "I'm really sorry, you were just so…you swept me along, ya know? I totally wasn't even thinking about the stupid prank anymore."

He smiles, scootching in a bit closer. "I thought you could use your comeuppance one time. People were afraid to cross you back home."

"I dyed too many peoples' clothes pink, put those," I point to the whoopee on the floor "under too many pillows, that sort of thing, huh?"

"You built yourself quite the reputation." I giggle. Gods, he's just so…nice. Why have I never thought about that until just now? He's kind of…glowing. "So, how did we do?"

The memory of it comes rushing back. How…good it felt. Gods.

"Um, well you weren't bad, y'know, for your first time and all."

"Really? Same goes for you, and you were even distracted."

"Yeah, by my stupid ideas." I look away.

He turns my head back towards him with a hand. "I had a feeling you were going to say that. But, all the same, I think we should try again, just to be sure." That smile of his…it's bad for my health.

"Are you sure? I totally killed the mood."

He answers me by leaning in again.

It's kind of hard to accept, that he really wants to do this with me.

I mean, he's just so tall and strong and handsome and kind and brave and ooh muscles

my hands roam up and down his arms.

To be honest, this started as a bad idea. But right now, I'm not thinking about pranks, or curfew, or winter wolves, or Puffguts, or Gorion or Firebead, or Jaheira or Khalid, or anyone or anything else.

Right now, my best friend is kissing me, and that's all that matters in the multiverse.