Blacklist [h.s]

twenty two

Harry

I had to admit, and I hate to admit, that by the time the plane lands, I'm a little plastered. I stopped counting after my fifth drink. I think I finished a whole fifth of bourbon by myself. I was actually throwing up in the bathroom while we were landing and had to sit with my back to the wall, holding onto either side of the small room with my hands to keep myself still, then continued throwing up once the plane landed.

I quickly get up, gargle some mouthwash and wash my hands before leaving the bathroom. I see Grace patiently waiting behind bodyguards to exit the plane and quietly excuse my way through the four people in front of me to be directly behind her. She's about to step through the door when I catch her hip with my hand.

She looks back at me, annoyingly, but I barely catch it.

"Welcome home," I mumble. She doesn't say anything, but looks forward and steps out onto the stairs. I frown watching her walk down swiftly and delicately. She carried herself professionally and tall, not letting others stand over her or get in her way. She knows what she wants and I don't think it has anything to do with me. The thought makes me clench my fist and step off of the plane. The wind in my hair cooled me, but my thoughts were still racing. You're only here for a job, Harry. 

I had to drink myself silly to prepare myself for what's about to happen when we get to the hotel. I don't know how she's going to react. I don't know how to handle her reaction either. It is a lot to deal with and I don't feel like it's my business to be in.

I follow her down the stairs but not as delicately. Instead, I stumble behind her, nearly falling over my feet once halfway down, but I manage to save myself and make it onto the asphalt without falling on my ass. I walk more straight on the flat surface and eventually catch stride with Grace. She looks straight ahead and in my drunken state, I feel like celebrities as the wind blows in our hair and we walk down the tarmac side by side.

We get closer to the car and I open the door for her. She thanks me quietly and slides in, sliding all the way over so I can climb in through the same door she did.

I don't remember the ride to the hotel. Grace shakes me awake when we're parked at the valet in front. She doesn't look annoyed anymore, but she doesn't look happy either. Her lips are straight with no emotion plastered on her face. It was very different from the normal Grace.

I climb out of the car and hold the door open for her, offering her my hand to help her out. She reluctantly takes it and climbs out, letting it go when her two feet are on the ground and the car door is shut.

"We'll have a suite, but you'll have your own room. They're like two rooms connected," I tell her as we walk in. She nods. I hold a joke back because now doesn't seem like the time, but I wanted to add "that way if you get lonely." I keep it to myself. It's almost 6am here and the sun is just barely peeking over the clouds. Back home it's midnight. Or what used to be home, for Grace at least. It was only my temporary home.

I hold the door open for her and we approach the front desk together.

"Randal Harrison," I nod to the girl sitting behind the desk after she kindly greets us.

The exchange is short. She nods, hands us two keys and I slide her two hundred dollar bills from my wallet. She thanks me quietly and I turn to Grace, handing her her own key.

"They're right next to each other, 17th floor." I tell her.

"Are you going to tell me everything when we get up there?" she asks.

I sigh quietly and my heart begins to race at the thought.

"First thing in the morning," I tell her.