"Breakfast's in the fridge," I told him, in case he was too hungry to wait.
"A-All right," he stammered as he dropped a sneaker on the floor. He was quick to pick it up, his arms full, which reminded me I'd left my workout clothes in the bathroom. Julian adjusted his towel and darted out, still flushed from our run.
Drying my junk, I picked out a pair of boxer briefs and a pair of jeans. A T-shirt would suffice for now, and then when we had dinner tonight, I could change into a button-down depending on whether we'd go out or stay in at Tennyson and Sophie's.
*
"I need a nap." Julian yawned and threw himself on the couch after breakfast. "I'll admit that the exercise is helping in some ways, but don't you get tired once the adrenaline has settled?"
"Sometimes." I nodded and sat down on the other end. "Nothing wrong with a nap here and there, though." He could sleep while I took some notes on the script. "I'll wake you if you sleep talk about your brother and sister again."
It had become an unspoken rule. He napped on the couch when he hadn't had a good night's sleep, and he seemed to appreciate it when I stayed close. To be honest, I liked it, too.
"You're taking up too much space." He gave his feet a pointed look, indicating he couldn’t stretch his legs out.
Weird. The day before yesterday, he'd had no issue planting his feet on my lap while I watched a movie. But then, I hadn't been working.
I eyed him pensively. "You could always sleep in your bed, you know." This couch was extremely comfy, but the one time I'd fallen asleep here, I'd woken up the next morning with a sore neck. "I can sit at your desk and do this. I don't mind."
Knowing that Julian found it difficult to ask for things and sometimes worried he was in the way, I didn't give him a choice. I stood up with the script and my notebook and told him to follow.
Unlike me, who could sleep with bright lights, music, the TV, and so on, Julian needed darkness and silence. So I drew the blinds and only let the lamp on his desk stay on.
He was quiet as he stripped down to boxers and a T-shirt, and then he slipped under the covers and scooted closer to the wall, his back to the room.
Hopefully, he'd get some rest.
Taking a seat at the desk, I adjusted the chair and flipped open the script. I liked the title, Catching Stars, and I hoped it wouldn’t change. It fit the story too well.
I assumed Tennyson envisioned Sophie playing the leading role, 'cause that’s who I pictured. Solid story, sweet but gut-wrenching, about a young woman's hard work and tragic fate. She was on a quest to leave a legacy behind, and some of the lines jumped off the pages. She was mentally ill, so I'd have to do my own research to get a better insight.
There was one scene I could see as a set piece. Done right, it could be in the trailer and sell the whole film.
"Smash cut," I wrote down and marked off two scenes I wanted connected. "From Dutch to medium with R. lighting? See how it develops."
I tapped the marker against a word that bothered me. According to the script, they were in a cottage, but it took place in Paris. I'd never seen any cabins or cottages in that city. Instead, I jotted down "Attic/loft."
"I can't sleep."
I swiveled the chair and looked over at Julian. "Anything I can do?"
He shrugged. Lying on his back, he had his hands planted under his head, and he stared up at the ceiling. "Maybe I need a girlfriend or something."
I snorted a chuckle and rocked back a bit in the chair. A girlfriend wouldn't do much for him. It was the little things I'd noticed. And he noticed men when we were out, not women.
Nicky had been miffed when I'd canceled his grocery shopping for us the other day. I was done acting like a fucking child, so Julian and I had gone to the store instead. In fifteen minutes, he had checked out half a dozen asses, and none belonged to a woman.
"Or something," I murmured in response. "But how come you thought of that now?" I smirked. "You need me to leave so you can get your rocks off?"
"What, no!" he spluttered, seemingly appalled I'd say something like that.
The kid cracked me up.
I wondered if it was just around me he acted kinda…prudish. He did strike me as a careful type of guy, but something didn't add up. Not with the piercing, the rather extensive tattoos, and even the smoking, to a degree. Part of me believed he was only putting up a front because he and I were still new to one another. As if he were testing the waters first to see where he had me.