luck for the night - rl.

29. just a few hours.

It was the second day in a row that I had to wake up at 5 a.m., and it really started messing with my energy levels. Or at least, that's what I told myself. It was not the staying up when Remington had held me in his sleep, the sex, the confessions, or the going to parties I should not be at that had brought me to the brink of complete exhaustion.

With a sigh, I pushed myself up to seated, before stepping onto the cold wooden floor of the hotel room.

I turned on the kettle, of course grabbing a bag of lemongrass ginger tea from my bag, and put it in a black mug. I held up another bag of tea, "you want some too?" Remington nodded silently.

I got ready as fast as possible, sharing no conversation with Remington. I could not afford to look at him, and the comfortable bed he was occupying. If I did, I would crawl back in next to him, because I was so tired. But moreover, I just wanted to stay here with him, even if it was an impossible, unachievable daydream.

I went to the bathroom to put on a little make-up and ran a hand through my hair, and swapped out the comfortable clothes Remington had grabbed for me not even an hour ago for some simple black trousers and a long-sleeved top I had brought.

"I ordered a Uber for you," Remington let me know as I walked back into the main room.

I had not even thought of that: I had planned on just taking the tube. "Thank you."I started gathering all of my things on the bed, before trying to stuff them all in my backpack.

"Rylin," Remington broke the tense silence. "Is there a chance I could, you know, get my jacket back?"

Frost bit into my chest, as I looked down at the checkered piece of clothing I held between my fingertips, and then up at the dark-haired man across from me. So this was it, then. He was asking for his stuff back. Tomorrow morning he would probably text me, asking to mail him his pink trousers, and our relationship would be discarded, left to catch dust in an attic somewhere.

"Yeah... sure." I hesitated, before putting it on the sheets, next to my backpack. "It's yours, of course. Sorry that you had to ask."

"It's okay," He said, warmth in his voice. I looked up, confused. "I really loved seeing you wear it. So much that I kind of got jealous. I miss wearing it with the skirt."

"Oh," A smile crept onto my lips now, too. "Well then, I want to make you an offer."

"A trade offer?"

I rolled my eyes. "What else? The jacket for my Slytherin shirt." I raised a brow at him, "I miss sleeping in it." And I found it, after sleeping in it last night, that the scent that clinged to the fabric now, was very comforting.

"Deal." Remington extended his hand, and I leaned over the bed to shake it.

"Deal."

Meanwhile, the water was done boiling, and I put the hot water into the cups.

"So, what now?" I asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed, tea in my hand. I handed Remington his, which he put on the nightstand. I did not know how to ask about his tour schedule, his life, everything.

We had planned to see each other one more night, but what if he had changed his mind?

"I don't know. I mean, you're going to work, and I am going to catch up on some sleep..." Remington turned off the tv.

The sudden darkness made my skin prickle with expectations, dreams, and wishes. I wanted him to come up to me, suddenly, to kiss me the way he had done yesterday night, I wanted to get back under the sheets, curl up next to him, and forget about the world and all of its disturbances. What was this man doing to me?