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Herbert jiggled the door to what he guessed was Russet’s room. He never kept tabs on whose room really belongs to who, just who goes in which one. He had something important to tell him, something big. He didn’t even want to try to tell Beatrix, let alone Grant, with how little he knew him. Grant and Russet we're close too, so that could cause his little secret to get out.
When Herbert opened the door, as quietly as possible, he was met with a primly dressed room. Dead ringer for it being Russet’s, at least a Russet that’s in a charismatic mood. The room was dark, it was night. He chose nighttime to tell him. If he told him during the day, that could mean Beatrix or Grant might overhear, and as previously mentioned, that would be a no-go.
Plus, this whole thing was just embarrassing for Herbert to deal with.
He scanned the room with his eye, making sure the coast was clear. Once that was made sure of, Herbert walked over to the lump covered by satin sheets on the bed. Herbert gave it a gentle poke. And then more of a less-gentle shove. Russet woke up with a groan.
“Pffhtt..gargah.. Just… one more… 5 minutes…” Russet drooled into his pillow much like a sad one-legged dog would with its head on the ground.
“Russet.” Herbert hissed, shaking him a little more violently. Russet’s eyes opened slowly, he looked at Herbert as if a small gnome or something in that mystical vein had woken him up instead.
“Herb? It’s the middle of the… “ Russet yawned, "night… What could possibly be at your inquiry at this hour?”
Herbert cringed internally at what he was about to be doing. He managed to keep his face as stoic as possible, though.
“I have to tell you something, it’s very important.” Herbert kept his voice to a low whisper. He really really didn’t want anyone to know what he was about to confess.
“Well, be my guest. I’m sure if you have to tell me at such a time, then it must be important like you said!” Russet said, a little too loudly. Herbert grimaced.
“Shhh!” Herbert quickly said as he cautiously sat down next to Russet. “I don’t want anyone to hear us.”
Russet shuffled a moment, before saying, “Fine, If you insist.”
“Well,” Herbert wasn’t even sure where to begin. “I guess it’s about you.” Russet’s expression turned from sleepy to sleepy and puzzled.
“Me? Did I… Did I do something?” Russet looked around as if there would be an answer to the question somewhere in the room.
“Yeah, sort of.” Herbert shrugged. “It’s… I…hm.”
“...Is this about… Beatrix?“ Russet guessed, raising an eyebrow. “What? No.” Herbert sighed heavily. If he couldn’t bring himself to say it, then he might as well show it.
“Look, it’s about… Ugh, just, look-'' As quick as Herbert could allow it, he grabbed Russet by the collar of his shirt, and ducked in to close Russet’s mouth against his own.
After about two seconds, which felt like a lot longer, Herbert loosened the grip he had on his shirt. Herbert grimaced, face becoming a shade of red. He turned away from Russet, making a swift beeline to the door. Russet could only sit there.
Herbert’s mouth was tacky with strawberry-flavored chapstick.