espionage [h.s.]

SEVENTEEN

A.N. this was one of my favourite chapters to write for this story so far. it was also inspired by a part in the movie 'the bounty hunter' w jennifer aniston which is one of my fave movies. let me know some of your fave movies bc I need recommendations tbh (or any show recs)

ROCHELLE

"There must be a hotel around here somewhere. There are hotels popping up everywhere these days."

"Oh yeah, because we're just going to stumble across a luxury Hilton hotel in the middle of nowhere," Harry spits out sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if my words are the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Dream on."

I shoot him a glare but decide not to argue for once, as we've already had a few arguments already and I'm becoming rather bored of it. It's very unlike me to avoid an argument because I am argumentative by nature, but Harry is quite the worthy opponent with his quick wit and sarcasm, which decreases my odds of winning. And that just takes out all the fun.

As I had so politely pointed out by screaming at him, the car did run out of gas and it broke down only a couple of miles away from the house we were fleeing from. Obviously, I questioned Harry about how this happened and why the car wasn't checked before we left the institute, but he just snapped at me that it wasn't his job to oversee those things. I brought it up a few more times until it led to an argument between us, and then after that I decided I better not mention it again as it seemed like a rather touchy subject to him.

We eventually just ditched the car at the side of a road and managed to cover a few considerable miles on foot, until the rain started. We tried to take some shelter under a few trees, having to huddle together which neither of us were too pleased about, but then we got so soaked by the downpour that we decided we might as well just carry on. The rain was kind of a blessing in disguise, because it managed to wash away most of the blood on our clothes, and therefore lessened the chance of someone running away from us in fear when we finally come into contact with another human. Although, they may still run away purely due to the dishevelled look of us, our wet clothes stuck to our bodies and our hair no more than a knotty mess.

It's nearing dusk now, the sun beginning to dip lower behind the hills in the distance, and while Harry and I are cold, hungry and tired, we are also very lost. We have no idea what direction we're even travelling in, so we decided our best bet is to find some kind of establishment with a phone or a computer, or anything we can use to contact the institute and let them know where we are so we can get help. However, nothing has come into sight yet, our bodies continuing to drag us up a long dusty lane while I begin to fear that I may have to spend my night sleeping in a pile of leaves.

"Wait, do you see that?" Harry suddenly asks, snapping me out of my thoughts about how long it would take people to find our bodies if we died out here. I turn to look at him, following his gaze to a wooden sign a few feet ahead. "I think there's some sort of farmhouse up there. We should head towards that, maybe they'll let us stay there for the night."

"A farmhouse?" I echo, raising an eyebrow disapprovingly as Harry begins to pick up his pace. "Do I look like the type of girl to stay in a farmhouse?"

"Do you look like the type of girl to be killed by an illegal drug smuggling ring?" he quips back. "Because that's your other option, if you'd prefer that."

With that, he strolls even further ahead and I mutter insults about him under my breath as I reluctantly trudge after him. After walking about half a mile up the lane, we finally reach the farmhouse, a medium sized building that wears the same colour as unfinished wood, looking rather weathered from age, snakes of green ivy clutching onto the stone. Harry unlocks the gate of the wooden fence surrounding the small front garden while I read the signs that I assume they take to the local market to sell their goods, ranging from punnets of strawberries to cheese. I suppose some find this kind of rural living quite charming, but it's not really my scene.