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Banished † 6

  Once we get to the surface we make it to a taxi sitting across the street from the park and get in.

  "Where to?" the taxi driver asks, when we close the door behind us.

  Caleb sits up and pulls a fifty from his wallet and holds it out to the driver between the dividing window.

  "To the closest pharmacy, then to the farthest hotel in to the city you know," Caleb says.

  The taxi driver looks through his rearview mirror at me and I just smile. Taking that as a sign that everything is okay, he starts the engine. When we get to a pharmacy, I rush in and grab a first aid kit, pay for it and get back in the cab.

  As we ride, I look down at Caleb in my lap surveying the damage they did to his face. There is a gash above his brow and another across his cheekbone, that looks like it was torn open from force contact and there's swelling beneath his left eye. Delicately, I touch a finger around the open wound above his brow and in the passing city lights I can see it's already crusting around the edges. He still looks beautiful. Caleb takes my hand and brings it down to his lips, kissing each of my fingers.

  "I'm okay," he says, delicately around his lips against the skin of my finger. "Are you alright?" And Caleb traces the whelps across my cheeks. 

  "I'm fine," I reply, though it stings intertwining my fingers in his.

  Caleb pushes up and I lean down meeting his lips in a kiss. Pulling back up, I catch the taxi driver watching us through his rearview mirror. I smile coyly at him and look out the window on the street lights and scenery of Montua city. I've never been outside of Roma, except maybe if you count my college, which some would say is technically on the outskirts of Roma. Tall buildings light up the sky, glaring through the taxi windows like beacons of lights in to the sky. 

~

  The taxi driver drops us off at a grand hotel he says is in the middle of the city, not likely to be a place they will find us in. We walk in to the hotel lobby, stepping up to the receptionist desk. The receptionist looks up from her desk computer and bulks at the sight of me and Caleb.

  "Are you two alright?!" she exclaims, breathlessly.

  Caleb steps in front of me, smiling cooly. "Yeah, we're fine. Don't worry. It's just make-up. We're featured extras in a TV show they're filming in town."

  The receptionist sighs, gladly.

  "We would like a room for the night," Caleb says.

  "Alright." The reception turns to her computer already typing away. "One bed or two?"

  "One," Caleb answers.

  "And your name please?"

  "David Mitchell," Caleb says, straight away.

  "Da-vid Mit-chell." she types. "Cash or credit?"

  "I've got it baby." I smile, stepping around Caleb and pass the receptionist 200 dollars.

  "Thank you," she says, taking the bills. "And here are your key cards. You are in room 1112."

  We take our key cards from her and give her our thanks, then head for the elevator.