RED ROOM [H.S]

19.

Harry frowned at the man, clearly confused. "You didn't even ask our names or ask for a deposit!" Harry shouted to be heard over the rain. He reached into his wallet but the man in front shook his head.

"Don't need to know if you've got money, my friend! I am not allowing you back out in this weather, it would break my heart to see something happened to you two! Please, hurry up stairs so you're warm!"

My heart swelled at the man in front of us. He sat behind a large glass window, looking as if he was shivering himself from the cold. He was a small man, but had a face that reminded me of Santa Claus. Harry seemed to notice the way he shook as well, and his frown seemed to deepen. "Why are you out here still? It's too cold."

The man waved his hand, and laughed, though it was a sound that was lost in the rain. "I need to make sure everyone who needs a place to stay gets in safety. You two go on up now though!"

Harry hesitated for a moment, but nodded, and tugged at my arm to follow him. It was the first glimpse I had gotten of the softer side of Harry since I had first met him, and it gave me a little bit of peace knowing he was still lurking around the Big Bad Harry. I gave the man a warm smile, and silently prayed to whatever God above to keep that man out of harms way. He had a gentle soul.

As expected, the motel room wasn't the best, though it wasn't the worst thing I had ever seen. It was a shame to admit that it rivalled against my own apartment, but didn't lose by much. There were two single beds in the middle of the room, a door that led off to the bathroom. A desk and a chair sat in front of the beds, with a TV that I was sure was older than me. It was nothing special, but it sure bet sitting in a car for any longer.

Harry obviously didn't share the same thoughts as I did, because his soft features turned into a scowl as he looked around the room in disgust. The duffle bags he was surprisingly carrying in one hand dropped to the floor, and he pinched his eyes shut momentarily. I watched in amusement as his eyes ran over everything again.

"That bed's mine," he said, nodding to the one furthest away from the door. I rose my eyes and inspected it. There was nothing that noticeably stood out to me that was different.

"Any particular reason why?" I asked, watching as Harry unzipped his duffle bag. Surprising me, yet again, he tugged out his own fucking pillow and then looked up to meet my eye.

"Cleaners tend to start at the back of the room and make their way to the front. They put more effort into that bed," he remarked with a shrug.

"So you're giving me the shittier bed?" I asked flatly.

Harry rolled his eyes at me, as he made his way to the bed and threw the sheets onto the floor. He did a thorough check of everything before he was satisfied to lay his pillow down and discard of the other one. "I'm paying for it, only seems fair, does it not?"

I didn't bother to comment. He had a point, but I didn't really care about where I slept. I had grown up in far worse places like this. I was just lucky to have a roof over my head at the time and a blanket to keep me warm during these types of storms.

The lightening outside lit up the room for a millisecond, and the thunder roared as if it was angry at the world. I remembered a time where I use to get scared of thunderstorms. I would always run to my parents room, begging them to let me cuddle with them. My parents, if they were even home, weren't usually asleep, but they would scream at me to get out of their room, and for me to put on my big girl pants. I hated how I had to learn independence that way. Alone in my room, cuddling my ratty soft toys, telling them that the rain would go away, and they would be okay.

I shook my head out of my thoughts just in time to see another flash of lightening light up the room. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, getting snippets of memories of me crying as a child in my head. I hated my parents. I hated that they brought me into this life without even being able to take care of themselves. They never taught me how to dream big or shoot for the stars. All they taught me was how to steal cans of beans when we had nothing but mice in our house, and how to run away when you were caught.