Noah Mitchell and The Theory of Alternate Universes √ (BoyxBoy)

23

//TW

Mentions of self-harm and depression and there's a little bit of PG-13 in here. So please read at your own risk.

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Pink.

Everything is pink.

The big ass letters at the top of the motel that said '  OTEL' (because the M is broken) reflected all through out the motel's parking lot. 

Elliot never let go of my wrist,  we walked all throughout the city trying to find somewhere to sleep. All the way Elliot was leading, casually looking towards me from time to time. 

We were both silent, as if both afraid that if we talked the whole world would hear us.

I looked at him, in his whole glory. His hair is back to being curly and fluffy, all dried up after being soaked in the rain. His white shirt not anymore clinging to him. His hand  tight on my wrist.

He looked back at me again. His side profile being illuminated by the pink lights.

"Here?" he asked me. I nodded my head. As if I'd care where we'd spend the night, all I ever care about is if I would spend it with him.

Only a single car was parked in the side of the parking lot. 

We enter the building hand in hand. The bell at the top of the door jingling. 

A bald man with a mustache, standing behind the brown wooden desk, looked up. His eyes lingering momentarily at our linked hands. I shifted uncomfortably from where I was standing. His scrutinizing gaze making me aware of his hand still on mine. I cleared my throat. 

Elliot looked at me momentarily, his eyes panning my face then lets go of my hand. 

He went up to the desk, leaving me standing by the entrance. 

"Hi... can we have a room?" Elliot mumbled as he stopped in front of the desk. The guy narrowed his eyes at Elliot.

"One room?" he asked. 

"Yes, please." Elliot answered, looking back at me for a moment, flashing a small smile. 

He looked back at the guy, the smile becoming less genuine. 

"Hmmmmm." The guy hummed, I can practically cut the tension in the room. "Two queens?" the guy asked again. His voice dripping with mockery, I figured that we're not talking about the beds anymore.

I shifted again. My cheeks flushing red.

"Actually, a king size bed, please." Elliot said, giving the guy a forced smile. Hands going to his pocket, retrieving his wallet. He slapped some money into the desk, then ring the bell that was atop of it, for no other reason but to annoy the guy.

I flushed again. A king size bed? We're sharing a bed? Is something going to happen between us? Is Elliot expecting for us to have sex? Am I ready for that? 

Mustache (What I decided to call the guy) just nodded his head, still looking at Elliot as he slid one of the keys. His jaw clenches making it clear he doesn't like the situation. 

He doesn't like that we're here, that we're renting a room. And he doesn't like knowing that we're going to share a bed. 

Well tough luck, mustache guy.

Elliot flashes one last forced fake smile and made his way out of the lobby, but before we could go out, he stopped and turn around facing mustache guy once again.