The lift doors opened, and, a bit unsure, I made my way towards his room. I couldn’t help but wonder if he might have someone with him. I knew he was staying alone, but there was always a chance he’d found some company, wasn’t there? And what if his father was there with him?

   Did he have any odd habits like Elisa? I could handle sleeping to the sound of her whale-like noises—I’d had to deal with that when I stayed at her place during the filming of the second season of LoveHeart.

   I didn’t think Pedro had any strange habits… aside from crying about being followed, but that was probably just the alcohol.

   A knock on the door was enough for me to hear his voice saying he’d be there in a moment. In a pointless attempt to calm myself—though I had no idea why I felt so on edge—I took two deep breaths. It was just enough time for him to open the door.

   It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him. And yet, somehow, everything felt new. Seeing him in that brown T-shirt, those sleep shorts, and that slightly unreadable expression completely disarmed me. Every barrier I’d tried to put up to stop myself from acting strangely just… collapsed.

   Gone.

   Pedro was attractive. I couldn’t deny that. Seeing him like that only made me more curious about him—and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure staying in his room was such a good idea.

   I swallowed, clearing my throat.

   "Can I come in?" I asked anyway.

   I tried to pretend my voice hadn’t come out deeper than usual, but Pedro caught it, holding back a laugh as he stepped aside to let me in.

    "What happened?" he asked, closing the door.

   He walked a few steps towards the coffee table. I tried not to show how embarrassed I felt.

   "I know this is going to sound strange—and it is—but… can I sleep here tonight?"

   "S-sleep? Here?"

    "Yeah… I got locked out of my room, and Phill sleeps like a mountain. Nothing wakes him".

   Pedro went quiet.

   He was thinking, I suppose.

   Had I annoyed him?

   We barely knew each other, and I was already asking to sleep in his room as if it were completely normal. Technically, I had already slept there. Though I wasn’t sure if passing out—slightly tipsy, not completely drunk—on his sofa at four in the morning, wrapped in a blanket and freezing, counted as sleeping.

   "Sorry, forget I said anything" I added quickly, trying to fix the awkward situation I’d just created.

   Honestly, it might’ve been easier to humiliate myself and beg Aly to let me stay in her room. I turned to leave, but before I could take another step, I heard his voice:

    "It’s fine. You can sleep here, if you want."

   I turned back—he looked nervous.

   Was he just being polite?

   Or about to faint…

    "Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you."

    "You’re not bothering me, I swear" he said.

   His fingers fidgeted with each other, and his eyes were full of hesitation. I wasn’t an expert in body language, but I knew when someone wasn’t entirely comfortable.

    "Are you sure" I asked again. "It’s really fine if you’d rather not. I can try Aly again."

   I said it hoping he’d just admit he didn’t want me there. Honestly, I almost wished he would. I didn’t fancy humiliating myself again just to be told no—and then having to pay for another room.

    "You can sleep on the sofa" he began. "The heater still isn’t fixed, so it might be hard to sleep there. But… if you want, you can stay."

   I really was cold. Which was odd, considering London winters were much worse than whatever Brazil was throwing at me that night… Did that even make sense? Probably not. I should’ve looked into the weather before travelling—might’ve packed something actually useful for the rainy season.

   When I found out I was coming to Brazil, I looked up photos of the country, and they completely misled me. I thought I’d be escaping the UK rain and enjoying some warmth, but instead, it felt like the rain had followed me here.

    "Thanks" I said, trying not to make my small smile too obvious. "I think I’ll manage without the heater."

   Unlike me, Pedro didn’t bother hiding his smile—and something about that simple expression made my chest warm.

   I hadn’t noticed it before, but his room carried a certain… presence. It felt like him. A light almond-like scent lingered in the air, distinct enough to associate with him. I didn’t know how long he’d been staying there, but the comfort of the space suggested days—maybe weeks.

   His gaze fell on me, and I wondered if I should say something. But what could I even say?

    "You should try to sleep" he said. "You look exhausted."

     "Oh, don’t judge me, Pedro. I haven’t slept properly in days"  I replied, letting out a genuine laugh.

   He walked to the wardrobe and grabbed a blanket and a pillow. Meanwhile, I plugged my charger into the socket and left my phone by the sofa.

    "Still not used to the time difference?" he asked, returning.

   He handed me the blanket, placing the pillow on top.

    "Yeah… it’s been a bit difficult to sleep."

   I wasn’t going to tell him the truth.

   I wasn’t about to ruin his night by turning him into a listener for the complaints of someone he’d probably forget the moment he returned to London.

     "In that case, make the most of your sleep, David."

   As he adjusted the pillows, Pedro went over to the bed. I didn’t take long to lie down. The floral scent of the fabric softener brought on a strange sense of déjà vu, as if I’d lived that exact moment before.

   From the way I lay there, I could see Pedro getting into bed, covering himself before glancing my way—the silence between us felt like a question and an answer exchanged without words. I heard him shift slightly before everything settled and he turned off the light.

   The stillness was peculiar.

   Being there felt strange.

   Not because I was uncomfortable—but because I was comfortable enough for it to feel better than how I’d been moments before, back in my own room searching for my charger.

   But minutes later, the cold became far worse than before. My feet felt frozen, as did my fingers and hands, which I tucked into the blanket and brought close to my face. Even fully covered, I could feel cold air against my back. The blanket wasn’t nearly enough.

   The heater was sorely missed.

    "Are you alright there?"  Pedro’s voice echoed in the darkness.

   Apparently, I hadn’t been as quiet as I thought while tossing about on the sofa trying to get warm.

    "Y-Yeah. J-just a bit cold" I admitted, my teeth almost chattering. "Do you have another blanket?"

   In the dim light, I could see him sitting up in bed.

    "I wish I did, but I don’t"  he said, shifting again.

   "It’s fine, I think I can manage" I said, though I didn’t sound convincing at all, since moments later he switched the light back on.

    "Come here, lie down" he said. "You take one side, I’ll take the other. It’s better than you freezing over there."

   I wasn’t sure that was a good idea…

   I wasn’t even sure staying in his room was a good idea.

   I thought about refusing—saying I was fine, that I could survive freezing on the sofa—but that would’ve been a lie. So, despite not wanting to take advantage of his kindness, I got up and crossed the room, bringing my pillow and blanket with me.

   "Are you sure it’s okay to share the bed?"

   I noticed he held his breath for a moment, avoiding my gaze.

   "As long as you don’t fart in your sleep, you’re fine."

   I had to hold back a laugh.

    "Don’t worry, I won’t."

   I settled into bed, tossing my blanket over the other one. He stayed on the right side as I got under the duvet. I adjusted my pillow and turned my back to him, trying not to bother him any further.

   I was so tired, so sleepy, that I didn’t even stop to think about how unusual all of this was.

   That feeling—that this would be a good night’s sleep—only grew stronger. There was no way I wouldn’t sleep well wrapped in such warmth after the cold I’d just endured.

   When people said I’d eventually end up in bed with a fan, this wasn’t what I’d imagined.

In truth… it was far better than anything I could’ve imagined.