{Chapter Eleven}
I knock on the door and wait. I'm not sure that I expected him to open the door immediately, since it's already past midnight, yet as the minutes pass by I become more impatient. I wonder if I should just leave and go back to the hotel to take a few Vics, maybe drink a bit. Thankfully my lovely Angel opens the door before I chicken out.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demands, eyes red with sleep, but I can also tell he's relieved to see me alive after giving me that information.
"The deal didn't go right. I wasn't smart enough, I lost my right-hand." I explain blankly. Ángel stares at me for a minute, taking in the blood stains that my red shirt refuse to blend with, and the dried blood on my hands that I still haven't washed off. He looks down the hall both ways before dragging me in.
"I'm sorry, I was hoping you could avoid it. Were you close to him?"
"I knew him since he was in Pampers. I wasn't that close," I pause to give him a knowing look before I continue. "But he was one of the ones I could trust. He made me finish him off, shoot him."
"Shit," he finally moves from his spot in the middle of the tiny dorm to a small dresser next to a twin bed. The blankets and sheets are pulled back on the bed, the comforter almost on the floor. There's textbooks on his dresser and a few empty bottles of water and soda, along with the occasional empty cup of soup. He pulls a gray shirt out of his dresser and tosses it to me.
"The bathroom is through that door, I can't imagine it's pleasant being covered in blood." He states. I raise a brow but nod. It's not so much for my convenience but more for his peace of mind. He doesn't want to see the blood everywhere, though because he doesn't like it or because he's worried it's mine is the mystery.
I go into the small bathroom and realize it's about as tidy as his room is. There's a pile of clothes next to the white sink, that has toothpaste around it and a very used toothbrush on the edge. The toilet seems to be the cleanest thing in the room, aside from the walls and tile. The shower is littered with empty bottles and a few washcloths, the silver faucet and shower head are covered with hard water stains.
Then again, I'm one to talk, until I started staying in the hotel, my room was just as messy. The bathroom the entire household shared usually littered with used needles and spurts of blood, the porcelain toilet and sink had turned yellow and grimy.
I pull off my clothes, tossing my red shirt in the trash and placing my jeans on top of the toilet with my borrowed shirt. I turn the shower on and hop in. The water stains red with blood until I have it all washed out of my hair and body. I stand under the warm water for a few seconds, staring at Angel's razor longer than I should. I shake my head, water splashing against the glass door, shaking the thoughts out of my head.
By the time I get out and dry off, I look less like a criminal and more like a normal person, save for the tattoos. I also smell like Angel, like Old Spice. I pull on my clothes and leave the bathroom to see Angel reading a book, patiently waiting for me to get out. He looks up and smiles.
"Better?"
"Not much," I admit before I sit on the bed next to him. He closes the book and places it on his dresser.
"I'm sorry... You can and will get Yerial, though. It will be tricky, but I know you can do it." He says with an encouraging smile.
I stare at him, taking in his tired eyes and lean body, only covered with a pair of shorts. I feel myself reacting to him and find myself pushing him back onto the bed.
I go in for a deep kiss and trail my hands down his chest but that's as far as it goes. He pushes me up.
"Stop. I really am growing fond of you, but this isn't some teen drama book where we have sex two chapters in. I'm glad to let you stay here, even sleep in my bed since obviously I won't have you sleeping on the floor, but we're not going to have sex. I want to get to know you better before I do that with you." He explains and I smile down goofily at him.
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