"One day someone will ask me, what made me stop believing in love and I'll almost choke on your name." - Unknown
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Never again am I going to stay at this hotel again. It was about 3 in the morning in New York and whoever the inconsiderate asshole that was playing loud rap music next door was going to die. I grab my key card and head outside my room. I tap on the door and wait.
5
4
3
2
1
No answer. Their stupid music must be too loud to even hear me.
I practically bang on the door this time. There was absolutely no way they couldn't hear me now. I'm about to knock again, when the door flies open. Behind it a tall blond boy with blue green eyes. "What is it?" He sighs looking at me with a slight German accent.
I roll my eyes, "You can't tell." I reply sarcastically.
He shakes his head.
"Your music is too loud. It's 3 in the morning for god sakes. Everyone's trying to sleep. You could try to be a little bit more considerate."
He doesn't answer. Instead he runs back to his speaker on the table near the center of the room, lowers the volume slightly and comes back near the door. "I didn't realize you could hear the music, but come on don't tell me you don't like Drake."
"Drake's not bad.... but I prefer to sleep at 3 in the morning." I start turning and walking the couple of steps to my room.
"I like your shoes by the way." He says tauntingly as he smirks. I look down and see my fuzzy, yellow, duck sleep slippers. I decide to ignore his comment and slide my card in front of my door. I see the green light flash and try to open the door, but it doesn't budge. "Trying to break in" he perps from his door seeing me struggle.
I roll my eyes, "Look at the green light, I don't know what's going wrong." I try again and the door doesn't budge, all I can hear is light laughter from behind. I turn around to face - well whoever he was - "Could I maybe borrow the phone in your room?" I ask him.
He smirks, "Sure princess."
I roll my eyes and walk in. He's such a douche. it's slightly messy with a couple of sneakers on the floor and clothes on the chair, but otherwise it's pretty clean. I quickly dial reception's number and hold the phone to my ear, trying to avoid any unnecessary conversation with the douche. I quickly get greeted by the woman at the reception and explain to her the issue I had with my door.
'I'm so sorry Ma'am, this has been a pretty recurring problem with some doors on that floor. We are very sorry, we've gathered that this usually takes around 2 hours of maintenance work to fix."
I sigh, what a morning this was turning out to be. I hear a slight chuckle behind me. Ugh I hate him and I don't even know him. "It's okay I understand. Is there another room I could stay in the meanwhile." I ask her.
"I'm so sorry, it's tourist season and all our rooms our booked. Our lobby is open downstairs if that helps. It is slightly cold so I suggest bring a light sweater.----------------" And with that all I hear is the call ended sound.
"You can stay in here if you want." I turn around to see him talk to me.
"No no it's fine, I'll head to the lobby."
I start to walk, but he stops me. "You can't get a sweater since your door is locked and it's going to be cold, you're in shorts and a tank right now. Stay in here, I'm not going to sleep anytime soon."
I look at him to see if he's serious and sure enough he looked serious. "Okay, thank you." I mumble and sit in the chair that isn't covered by clothes.
"My name is Alex by the way, but everyone calls me Sascha." he says seating himself on the edge of the bed.
"My name is (Y/N)." I smile.
He rakes his hand through his hair, "Sorry I was being an ass with the music. I have a tournament in two weeks and I'm incredibly nervous. I am jet lagged to, I just came from Germany this morning."
"Tournament?" I question.
"The US Open, I play tennis for Germany." Sascha explains.
That explains all the sneakers. I feel embarrassed for not knowing ,"Oh, I'm so sorry. I haven't watched tennis in years, I used to when I was younger."
He laughs, "That's okay, even if you did, you wouldn't really know me. This is my first grand slam tournament and I may not even be able to participate. I was practicing earlier today and got hit. My physio is still getting concussion test results and that'll take another couple of hours. If it's a concussion, boom I'm out."
"I'm so sorry." I feel an urge to go and comfort him, but hold back.
"Anyways, I can't sleep until I get my results back which should take a couple of hours. Standard Concussion protocol. That's why I had the music on so loud. It was so I don't accidentally fall asleep."
I feel so bad now crap. "Oh shit I didn't know I'm so sorry."
Sascha smiles, a genuine smile not a smirk this time, "Well half the reason I asked you to stay was so that I would have someone to keep me company for a couple of hours until I get my results."
.
.
.
.
More than two hours pass, as we talk about football, donuts, german food, our dreams for the future.
It felt like I could talk to him about absolutely everything. "Come here" Sascha pats at the area on the bed next to him. "Bayern Munich's match should be on now." I quickly get on the bed careful, to be not too close to him. I have a talent of making things awkward.
At this point some light is shining through the crack between the curtains of the window. And as he switches the television on, I notice the time 5:32 am blinking on the bottom right of the screen. "Look at the time. I should get going." I smile, "It's been great talking to you. You've been great company. Thank you so much for letting me stay." I start to get of the bed when I feel a hand grab my wrist. I turn around and see Sascha stopping me.
"(Y/N) before you go, uhh" He stops as if it's really hard for him to say whatever he wants to say, "Umm, I don't want you to think I'm too forward, but, I haven't spoken like that to anyone in my life and umm" he hesitates again, "I don't want this to be the last time I see you." He inches closer to me and grabs my chin. Getting closer and closer. "I haven't felt like this about someone before." And with that he smashes his lips on mine.
The kiss is slow, sweet, tentative. Each of us asking the other for permission. Finally, he bites my lip asking for approval when his phone rings. I break the kiss and lean forehead against his. "Those are most probably your concussion test results." I say breathing heavy.
"I don't care I've already won." And with that he smashes his lips on mine once again.
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It was great to see a comment from @Missyhenry101 and votes from @camgrey and @charkwayteow . Thank you so much for your support! To everyone reading, thanks you for reading please continue to vote and comment. Let me know if you have plot ideas/requests/advice.
Love - Rowan
