Motel 38 (Short Story) // Klaroline

Chapter 2

He eyes the motel in suspicion, wondering if he should stay here. The neon sign reading Motel 38 flickers on and off as if from a horror movie.

Rolling his eyes, the well dressed man exits his sleek black car with a sigh. This is what you get if you don't book a hotel room on a Friday night.

His eyes flicker down at his phone, groaning when his brother's name pops up. That's the last person he wants to talk to. He declines the call and shoves his phone into his tux pocket.

"Room for one," he mumbles to the teenage boy sitting at the front desk. He looks almost as he did when he was his age, his curly blonde hair falling in front of his eyes which are rimmed with big black glasses.

"Mom! I need a key for room 16!" he yells to the older woman who soon rushes out of the back room. She hands him it and smiles politely.

"It's going to be the staircase to the right, third door to the left," she smiles and then frowns as he walks away in silence.

He trots upstairs and follows her instructions, leading him to an outdated white door, the paint slowly chipping off of the wood. He reads the sign stating 16, and places his key into the lock.

After swinging it open, the man rolls his eyes, a bad habit of his, at the old decor. He throws his suitcase on the bed and lays next to it, letting it all sink in. Today was probably the shittiest day he's experienced, according to him.

He lets his eyes close for a moment, groaning when his phone rings yet again. His eyes don't even have to scan the text to know it's from his brother.

I'm worried about you, Klaus. Please come home.

Having enough of everything, he shuts his phone down completely, isolating himself from his family. He can't take them. Why don't they understand I don't want to talk?

Standing up, he takes his suitcase and lugs it into the small closet given, sighing. I need a coffee, he thinks, heading downstairs.

When he enters the front desk room again, the boy doesn't even look up.

"Do you have coffee I can buy?" the man asks impatiently, not used to not getting what he wants.

Over exaggerating things, the boy drops his book and looks at him, rolling his eyes.

"There's a vending machine down the hall," he states and goes back to reading. The man sighs in frustration.

"Well where's the nearest coffee shop?"

"A mile down the road, I don't know. Can you let me read?" the teenage boy asks, clearly annoyed as he raises his eyebrows.

The man smirks, rolling his eyes.

"The girl dies in the end," he states, knowingly. The boy's jaw drops as he begins to walk away.

"How do you know?" he asks in frustration.

"I read it when I was around your age too," the man grins as he closes the door behind him, chuckling as he hears the boy curse in annoyance.

He heads back upstairs, needing to grab his keys and wallet before leaving. He slips his room key into the lock and opens the door, his heart nearly stopping when his eyes rest on a tall blonde girl, her looks truly exquisite.

"Wrong room!"

He stays, stunned for a second before a scowl of annoyance replaces his shock.

"This is my room. I'm afraid it is you who has the wrong room, love," he states sarcastically, not wanting to deal with idiotic people at the moment.