Single post in Sleight of Heart -- [COMPLETED]

Placing her phone back on the stand, Marilyn lies down on my chest, letting her braids flop into my face. “You could always spend the day as my hostage. Then I can sneak you out tonight.” Pushing her hair away, I frown. “Not even an option.” “Aw…” she moans playfully. “Fine. Let me take care of it.” In a single motion, Marilyn hops down from the bed and flips the light switch by the door. I squint to allow my eyes a couple seconds of adjusting while she continues over to her closet and flings it open. Wondering what she has planned, I watch silently as she rifles through clothes-filled hangers for several seconds before picking out a light blue and white, cloud patterned tank top along with a pair of light blue capris. She tosses the top onto the foot of the bed and slides the capris off its hanger. As she starts to pull the fabric over the curves of her legs, it suddenly dawns on me that this is the figure that lay next to me through the night. If any average guy finds out that nothing happened, they’ll probably call me stupid or worse. After she pulls the capris over her hips and I notice how form-fitting they are, she faces me. “You know, a gentleman looks away while a lady dresses herself.” If nothing else, Marilyn is extremely hard to read. One moment, she’s throwing herself at me and the next, she’s bathing in a river of modesty. However, since I don’t want to add to the trouble I’m probably already in, I turn around and face the wall. “So, I’m a gentleman now?” “In my eyes you are.” She tosses her tie-dye shirt on my head and pinches my butt before grabbing her tank top. I flinch hard and barely manage to suppress another manly yelp. She just giggles to her heart’s content. “And yours are the actions of a lady?” “I never said I was a lady,” she quickly fires back. Then she smacks my butt a moment later. “Now get dressed, Karl. When I call my phone, get down to the lobby as fast as you can—and as quietly as you can—without being seen by anyone on the halls. Okay?” Nodding silently, I crawl out of bed and snatch my pants from the floor first. “Oh, and bring my phone with you,” she adds when her hand reaches the doorknob. “Got it.” I look over at her, and for a second, there’s a strange stare between us. Even though she’s looking directly at me with no visible expression, I get the feeling her thoughts are a million miles away. But she doesn’t speak again. She quickly exits the room and shuts the door behind her. Her pattering steps fade for a couple seconds before I hear the stairwell door squeak open. Still wondering what she has planned, I hurriedly finish clothing myself. As I step into my sneakers, I can begin to feel movements on the floor. Five people are moving about, including one person in the room directly across from Marilyn’s in the midst of a constant stream of air being pushed out from one corner of the room. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I sensed movement in there last night while sneaking in. I didn’t have time to dwell on that though. Instead, I focus on traffic below me. Two people move about constantly at opposite ends of the hall, another stream of air bellows in a separate room, and a steady cascade falls not far from it. All the sensations are familiar—exercising, a fan, shower—but not what I need. Moving beyond, to the first floor is a bit of a strain. A slight twinge of pain near my right temple makes itself known as I keep pushing. A single person walks slowly down the hall. For a second, I can’t sense her. In the next, she’s several feet away. This loss of sensation is familiar as well. There are too many solid layers between me and the air on the first floor, interfering with my ability to detect minute disturbances consistently. The only option is to wait until I get into the stairwell near the first floor.