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for my favorite ever. <3
•••
Timed perfectly are the awful groans of windscreen wipers along with Roger's impatient blinking; he tries his best to sand back the drops of rain that pelt and swarm about the windshield. I look outside the car window, feeling the tension between us – the type of tension so thick that you could cut it through with a knife. I close my eyes, the whisper of the rain and the sound of music coming from the radio make me forget how unsettling this situation is.
"Hey, I think I'll have to pull over. " Roger says, robbing me of thought. "This bloody weather won't let us drive for much longer."
"But what about Syd, huh? Aren't you worried about him?" I mumble, trying my best not to look at him. Though Roger always seemed to be a nice, normal guy, his presence intimidates me. I notice something different about him: something darker, that burns into flames in the deepest layers – dark red.
"Christ, of course I am, but we won't make it there during this storm." he spits.
He has all the right to be angry, I think to myself. At Syd, at the weather, at me. It's 3 a.m. and we're trapped in this car together, traveling to another city to pick Syd up from another one of his little adventures. Roger and Syd have been friends for years, and, unfortunately, that's the only thing I have in common with him. Syd is my best friend, and he needs my help right now. That's the only reason I'm doing this, especially with Roger.
Thunders start rolling when I open my mouth to answer him. We both look at the flashes of lightning dancing in the violet sky, the trees swaying angrily around us. I sigh, giving up. "Fuck. I guess you're right." Roger swipes his thumb across his lip, laughing under his breath.
A bright red Vacancy sign lights up the car interior when we see a roadside motel. Nice timing. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I just nod in agreement; neither of us says anything. Roger turns on the blinker and enters the motel parking lot. The bell on the door jingles as we rush into the main office, and I shiver with the cool air hitting my soaked clothes. Roger speaks to the concierge and I wait for him by the door, trying to understand how we ended up here in the first place.
My eyes follow his movements as his long fingers reach for his wallet, then run frantically through his wet, messy hair; I realize how beautiful he is, even without trying.
"Let's go." he says after a while,swinging the keys in front of my face and leaving the reception. I follow Roger down the long hallway to find our room, gazing up the pipes filled with mold and the boring white walls of the building. He quickly unlocks the door and we step inside, finally out of the storm.
"This place is a shithole." I blink as we enter the room, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I turn on the table lamp and take a look around: a bed totally left in ruins, a small desk, a mirror, two nightstands – everything looks simple and temporary.
