The Heartbreak Hotel

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Part 2/2
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"Wow. It doesn't look like I expected..." Shane's says, and I smile, parking in the parking lot.

"It's smaller than a lot of people think." I mumble, getting out of the car and going to his side to open the door for him.

He giggles, blushing pink and whispering out a soft "T-thank you."

"Your welcome. Now come on, let's go inside." I grab his hand, and see his face turn a dark red.

I pull him into the lobby, making sure he doesn't come into contact with my dad just yet.

I walk him to the elevator, and start drawing circles on the palm of his soft hands, making his smile and blush for the twentieth time today.

I bring him to my room, opening the door with the keycard.

"Wow. It's beautiful." He says, looking around.

Being that I spent years decorating, and too much money for my own good on this room, not to brag but I'd say it was beautiful too.

I take a second to look around. It has a small kitchen, laundry room, one bathroom, an art room, and a bedroom. 

The counters on the kitchen and bathroom used to be wood, but I changed them both to marble.

The "laundry room" really isn't much of a laundry room. It's pretty much connects to the kitchen but hey, I'm not complaining.

Really, the only room worth looking at is the bedroom.

Well, and the art room, but we'll get to that.

The bedroom has a white queen sized bed, with curtains that go around it. My MacBook lays on my bed.

I have a flatscreen tv that sits on my dresser, which is marble with wood drawers.

I have a pretty nice sized closet too.

I've got multiple paintings that I painted hanging around the walls of  my room.

"Who painted these? They're beautiful!" Shane asks in awe, and I smile.

"Me..." I mumble, and his jaw drops.

"Your kidding! You never seize to impress me Ryland Adams." He says, and I chuckle.

We move to look at the art room.

The art room is basically filled with a bunch of my paintings.

I have a, you guessed it, marble desk, and the drawers underneath it are a navy blue color.

On my desk sits an unfinished painting, a bunch of brushes in a cup, a glass of dirty, paint filled water that I used to clean my brush, and a paint pallet with dried paint on it.

"Sorry, you came over kinda randomly so I didn't really have time to clean." I say, trying to explain the mess.

"It's fine. I don't mind." He smiles at me.