𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 | 𝐒.𝐌

Chapter 25

Hans Zimmer - Maestro (The Holiday), Ne-Yo - Miss Independent, GIMS - Hola Siñorita, Enrique Iglesias - El Perdon, Enrique Iglesias - Bailando.

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The next morning I wake up from the sun shining in the room. When I open my eyes I see Shawn sleeping next to me, but all I see is his feet. His head is at the foot of the bed, causing him to sleep without a pillow. 

How the hell did he end up there?

I chuckle and get out of bed to check what time it is. 

It's half-past ten, I've slept for about seven hours. I know that is the right amount of sleep you should get in a night, but for me, it's not enough.

I raise Shawn's head and shove his pillow underneath it, I don't want to be the only one to drive to Madrid. 

It is an eleven-hour drive to Madrid and I don't think we will be able to make that in one day. We need to stay somewhere for the night before we continue to Madrid.

The floor in the bathroom is heated and I enjoy the warmth underneath my feet. I grab a warm towel from the heating rack and fold it. I don't know why I do that, but my towel needs to be folded when I finish showering. It's a weird habit Lucifer taught me.

'Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth.' I hear Shawn say in a singsong tone.

I walk out of the bathroom and look at him, he's still lying in bed. I hover over his head, studying his face. 

Apparently, he was saying that in his sleep. I start to laugh and shake my head while walking back to the bathroom. I'm glad he was dreaming about me... or my name.

I get in the shower and wash my body, humming a song that has been stuck in my head the whole night. I even woke up a couple of times with that song playing over and over in my head, it's so annoying sometimes.

When I finish I get out of the shower and wrap the towel around my body after wrapping my hair in a towel first. I walk into the room again and search for my suitcase.

We didn't unpack our suitcases because we knew we would only stay here for two nights, and I'm way too lazy to unpack it, just to pack it again within two days.

I pull a pair of dark blue jeans out of the small opening on the left side of my suitcase. Pushing my hand in the suitcase again, searching for something else to wear feels like I'm searching for a prize at the fair. I sit down on the carpet giving up my squatting position.

I could just open my suitcase to find what I'm looking for, but I refuse to do it now. I've decided on this strategy and I will finish it this way. 

My hand is still in my suitcase, feeling all the fabrics, trying to find the right one.

I finally find the blouse I was looking for and pull it out of the suitcase. 

Wrong blouse.

I try to shove it back inside and start searching for other things.

Goddamn it! Why am I so stubborn? Just open the suitcase! No! I will not open the fucking suitcase! I will not let it win! God... I have lost my mind.

When I pull a sweater out of the suitcase I give up. I walk back to the bathroom and the moment I walk past the bed Shawn starts to laugh, the sound filling the room. 

I look at him and I see that his eyes are still closed. Now I start to think this man is pulling a prank on me. I wave my hand in front of his face, but he doesn't respond. I think he is still sleeping, wow, he must have a really funny dream.