luck for the night - rl.

13. leave a mark.

The cold night air dripped into the room as I opened the window, wearing nothing more than my shirt and some underwear that I found somewhere tangled up in the white bedsheets. The window sill was big and hopefully sturdy enough for me to sit on. So climbed onto it before putting a cigarette in my mouth and lighting it.

The only sounds in the small room were from the street outside, my long in-and exhales as I let the toxic smoke into my body and the shower running in the other room.

This time, Remington and I had been even better than last time. We knew each other better, now. What we liked, how we liked it. I couldn't imagine how good we would be if we got to know each other even more if we learned about each other's preferences and if we tried out new things together. Although, with Remington being a rockstar and all, I did not know how many things he had not tried yet.

I took another long drag of the cigarette, not trying to think of what was going to happen when Remington came out of the shower. I had joined him, for a second, but just to get the scent, the sticky sweat off my skin. I needed some time for myself, and he seemed to need that too, so I left the bathroom and stole his pack of cigarettes once again.

I was scared of what would happen when he opened that door. I had really, really ran out of luck, today.

No, you know what? I wasn't going to worry about it. Or at least, I would try not to. Luck or no luck, I could not deny that the dark-haired man had defied my expectations before. Every time I thought he would send me away or push me out, he invited me in, welcomed me. That had never happened before.

The shower stopped running. I tried to look cool, eyes on the street some storeys down. It was calm, for the most part. A few people biked past, laughing and talking. There weren't many people on the streets of Oslo, at this hour on a Sunday night. Better for me: I could look out the window, pretending to be the cool mysterious girl in a romance novel without the fear of getting looked at by the people down there.

Maybe my life was more like a novel than I liked to admit, recently. Meeting a man that completely blew my mind at some boring work event, having the best sex ever, and getting invited to a European city a little over a week later for even better sex...

His smooth voice pulled my attention back into the room. "You are such a goddamn goddess."

A shudder went through my spine. He was a lot closer than I thought. My attention had not been at the bathroom door, anymore. I was too worried about how busy the streets of Oslo were on a Sunday night.

I turned around to him. A soft smile played around his lips as he came closer, pulling the cigarette from my fingertips. "You can't smoke in this room," he said, before putting the smouldering object between his lips. "But I guess you already did, so it doesn't matter."

"What a way to steal my cigarette!" I plucked it from his lips after he had taken a drag.

"I mean, I paid for it, didn't I?" he answered, leaning on the window sill with his elbows. "Let's share?"

"Hmmm." I tapped off some of the ashes, pursing my lips. "Only because you asked nicely."

Remington rolled his eyes, again grabbing the cigarette from my grip, and taking a long drag.

My eyes wandered off to the pack, next to my leg on the window sill. I opened it, eyes scanning the inside of the pack. No phone number was scribbled down in this one. I could not help but smile.

When I looked back up, Remington's brows were raised in confusion, looking at me.

"No phone number," I explained, "I thought that maybe was your thing, having your number there to give to cute girls, or something."