Bad Boy Roommate ✔︎✔︎

s i x t y t w o

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER dusty as fuck motel room. I was lying on the floor, staring up into the muted pink void of the ceiling while the daily news acted as the soundtrack to my misery. I don't know where Luke went and quite frankly, I don't give two shits. I was just glad I was alone. 

I struggle to my feet, placing my elbows on the foot of the bed as support. The blood rushes to my head when I straighten my spine and I become dizzy. My thumb had been wrapped, I think Luke did it when I was crashed out because I wouldn't let him touch my when I was awake. 

With wobbly steps, I make my way to the adjacent bathroom and over to the sink. My blonde hair had prevailed after I almost bit Luke's arm off when he tried to dye it. He said if I don't agree soon, he's going to force the colour onto my head. 

My blue eyes were faded, like a pair of denim jeans that had been put through the wash too many times. There was a bruise on my cheekbone, on my temple and just above was the bruised area around my hairline where I had been hit over the head with a rock. 

There was a nasty gash on my right thigh, just below the hem of my pyjama shorts, and the result of my attempt to crawl through a broken window. Luke had caught me, he always does. 

I was just so fucking tired all the damn time. Part of me wanted to keep fighting; to keep running. But a small part of me, she was so exhausted.

I place my elbows on the edge of the sink and lean forward, resting my forehead against my arms. I wrench my eyes close as shouting from outside echoes. I brush it off as the couple a few doors down who shout at each other at all times of the goddamn morning. 

I sigh heavily as I straighten my back and stare at my reflection. I looked like shit. 

And it wasn't in the sense that those characters in movie use, when they're kidnapped and held hostage for days in crappy motel rooms yet still manage to maintain a full face of make up. Nope, my life said fuck that shit. I hadn't washed my face let alone shower and my hair was an absolute rats nest. 

I pathetically try to fix it my running my fingers through the long strands but it barely did any help. 

The shouting continued and I rolled my eyes. I had lost most of voice by now, so Luke didn't bother with the duct tape as there was only a quite rasp left when I spoke. I turn around, feeling the urge to release the little water I drunken when I hear the door burst open. 

"Hayden!" I hear before Luke appears in the doorway of the bathroom. He sighs a sigh of relief, "Good. Let's go." 

"What? What's going on?" I question as Luke charges at me, throws me over his shoulder and carries me through the room and out the door. I slam my handcuffed wrists against his back and kick my legs, but he holds me tight, "What the hell is going o—" 

"Hayden!" 

I hear the familiar voice, somewhere far yet close. My head perks up as I glance around looking for the blonde ball of sunshine that had just shouted my name.