Bent. | h.s

the show and go.

you started talking about how lately the weather compliments my mood.

-

"Dear God, why are we watching this? It's horrific."

"Because it's the only thing in English and you hate translations." I was laughing at Adam's expression as we watched the guy on TV de-gutt the fifth fish by now, the show we were watching really was gruesome but Adam had refused to watch anything Spanish with English subtitles, so here we were.

"Remind me to get some DVD's with me on our next flight." He groaned as he turned off the TV, "I can't do this anymore."

He got up and went to the kitchen part of his room and grabbed himself a beer and me a juice box and I took the moment to spread my feet on the couch taking his place.

"Heeeey, don't be mean." I shrugged and took the juice box from him, moving my feet a bit then resting them back in his lap when he sat.

He took a sip from his beer and I made a face of disgust at his awful choice of drink.

I've never really tried it before, vowing to stay away from anything alcoholic after what it's caused to my family, but I always saw people complain about how shitty it tasted.

Why they continued to drink it though, was beyond me.

"Wanna give the Spanish Ghost a try again?" I ask after a while and he almost spits his drink in protest making me throw my head back in laughter. "I'd rather watch that man kill more fish than have to see Demi Moore speaking in Spanish again, thank you." He chuckled along and I shrugged again as we fell into another moment of silence.

"What are you gonna wear tomorrow night?" He asks out of no where and I look at him in confusion.

"What's tomorrow?"

"That dinner thing the hotel's hosting, remember?" The hotel had invited us -him mostly, I was asked out of politeness- to join this fancy dinner thing they hosted every month, as delegates from the very important English magazine, as the man had stated. "Oh. Wasn't planning on going."

"Why not?" I had thought of so many excuses through out the day, ready to lie my way out of going to this dinner.

However, in this very moment, I could not think of a single one of them, and I was beginning to panic.

"I-um, I have to pack?" It came out more as a question than a statement and I wanted nothing more in that moment, than to disappear off the face of the earth. "You what?"

If the look on Adam's face was any declaration, he hadn't believed me. He.ll, I wouldn't have believed me.

"Cassie," he started off, shaking his head then looking me dead in the eye. "You're going to that dinner."

It felt like I was being told off by my father, only not that sexy to be considered daddy scolding, and the way I reacted made me seem more like a 5 year old than I was already proving to be trying to get out of going to this event.

"But I don't want to." My voice was extremely low as I said those words and I mentally cringed at how weird it sounded. "You need to stop being such a bum, Cas. This dinner will do you good, okay? You don't even have to eat, just go."

"Fine." I huffed and he smiled to himself in triumph. Dick.

"Wear that gold-y jacket you got from Morocco, yeah?"

"Why?" He rolled his eyes at me as if I'd just asked him the dumbest question on earth. "Because it's the only decent thing you own, kiddo." He stated, ruffling my hair at the pet name and got up to grab himself another beer.