Mystery Doesn't Need A Name

Jack Carter awoke feeling somewhat refreshed from his slumber. Almost gripping onto his forehead, his hand avoided the mass of previously sculpted brown hair as his mind wandered to the previous night's events. How much had he had to drink last night? He was mature enough to shrug off a hangover with some aspirin and a glass of water, even a simple cold shower. He was twenty-two. The day he had to call his mother and ask her to come over and get him some aspirin was the day he'd stop calling himself a man.

He turned over, taking in the appearance of another sleeping individual located within his stuffy single bed. They were facing away from him so he couldn't really start to put a name to a face yet. Plus, if they woke up any time soon, he was certain that the question 'What's your name?' might not get a very positive reaction. After his bout of staring (which he contested to be of the gentlemanly sort), he stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't admitting defeat. He was waiting for more information to come to light. 'Do you ever shut up?'. His mind was annoyed even at the mention of any word or phrase that linked to work. Jack was a D.C.I within the Metropolitan Police, the apparent 'powerhouse in policing'. He was betting that, upon the mention of his 'activities', someone at work would refer to him as the 'apparent powerhouse in the...'.

His thoughts were stalled as the individual began to wake, turning over in the process. Female. Check. Evidence? The appearance of breasts, long, swirling brown hair and signs of toning where it mattered. 'Not the time, not the time'. “Hey”, Jack attempted a smile, which must've worked due to the positive response he received. His mother had taught him that it was polite to smile in certain social situations. He'd learnt most of his etiquette from her. “Hey, stranger” came the dulcet Irish tone, delivered with familiarity. Intimate liaisons? Tick.

In his apparent trance, her hand reached out to cradle the back of his neck before her lips met his. It only served to propel him into another trance. His eyes flickered shut as their lips worked in tandem. Jack's lips untangled themselves from hers for a brief second as they descended upon the tender skin of her neck. His peppered kisses lasted for less than a moment as she hooked her hand under his chin, directing him backwards slightly. “Good boy”, she smirked with an air of the Devil about her. It was now that Jack took in his first proper glances of his once tidy bedroom.

The two were intertwined with the magnolia sheets with the odd arm, leg or extremity visible. Photos were removed, stuffed haphazardly into drawers. Clothes were strewn across the majority of the room. “Don't tell me. I look better out of them”. Jack grinned cheekily at her forwardness. “Go on, you've got work”. She pushed him lightly before he got up, reluctantly to say the least. He glanced around at her as he left the room, staggering across the landing towards the bathroom. “I'll be there in a moment”, she called from the bedroom, beginning her first movements of the day. Jack smiled as he turned the shower on, cold water battering his skin. 'Great. Suppose it'll help me though'. He washed himself thoroughly before turning the shower off, climbing out and grabbing a towel to save them both any awkwardness. Walking out of the bathroom and back towards the relative warmth of the bedroom, he stopped just before pushing the door open wider. “Is it alright for me to come in?”. He awaited a response but didn't receive one. Maybe she'd gone back to sleep.

Entering the bedroom properly, he found the bed neatly made, photographs on display as usual and all evidence of the previous night's 'endeavours' gone. It was awfully polite of her to tidy the room. He pulled on a plain black t-shirt, Tommy Hilfiger briefs and a pair of Levi's jeans before seeming worthy of her presence. Moving into the bathroom once more, he began to brush his teeth. Fresh breath was a must for most women after all. After sustaining the freshness of his breath, he grabbed his tub of Alberto Balsam styling wax, sculpting his hair back into a state of tidiness. “Hey, beautiful?”, he called out. For all he knew, she could be downstairs making herself breakfast. He once again received no answer. She might not have heard him. Returning to the sink and removing any possible remnants of toothpaste, he heard a tapping sound and looked up into the mirror. She could be knocking on the door, asking if she could use the bathroom. However, she appeared in the reflection of the mirror.
“Hey”, he smiled.
“Did you sleep well?”, she smiled back.
“All the better because it was with you”. This would be the moment in which he'd turn around and kiss her, later leading onto further actions. Just as he turned around, she'd disappeared from view. “Don't tease”, he complained. His gaze returned to the mirror, her reflection visible once again. Turning around once more, she was once again gone. Turning to face the window, he could see both the mirror and the part of the room that was previously behind him. A flicker in the mirror focused his vision upon it. She was there in the reflection..but not in the room. That wasn't possible. “Can you keep a secret?”, she whispered seductively, her finger to her lips.
“Y..Yeah”, his voice faltered.
“Well, I'll see you later, handsome”, she whispered once more, her lips brushing softly against his neck.