Chapter eighteen

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"Sleeping beauty finally up?" Louis remarks, throwing a bouncy ball up in the air and catching it repeatedly.

I lean into the covers searching the bed for Angelo's body, and when I don't find him, I groan glaring at Louis, who interrupted my rare peaceful sleep.

Angelo always does this.

I blink a few times, trying to get my eyes adjusted to the light. "What time is it?" I say with my sleepy voice.

"It's time for us to head to the airport." Louis says, curling a piece of my messy hair on his finger.

"Where's Angelo?" I say slapping his hand away from my head. "Isn't he supposed to be resting?"

"Oh come on, you didn't think he would actually 'sleep it off." He says like it's obvious.

"Isn't he in pain?" I ask sitting up and dragging my loose strands into a ponytail.

"Yes, but I don't think he cares." He ponders, putting his ball back into his pocket, "He's meeting us there." Louis says, sitting down on the bed and crossing his legs.

"Right." I roll my eyes, flipping open the covers and slipping on my shoes. I unlock the door and I walk into the hallway where tourists rush past Louis and me, with snow gear and hushed whispers. As soon as we get to the room, I immediately start digging through my suitcase, picking out my face wash and toothpaste, then walking into the bathroom with Louis not far behind me.

"Did you sleep in there?" Louis gestures to his room with a playful grin.

"Yes, and I'd rather we not talk about it." I say violently brushing my teeth, taking my anger out in any way possible.

Louis hops up onto the sink counter, pulling out a box of cigars. "Can you not?" I say, toothpaste pooling at the sides of my mouth. Of course, he has to 'fancy' the exact brand of cigars my father used to use. I can almost smell the fickle smoke in the air and the taste of the burn on my skin.

"Alright. Alright." Louis grunts, putting them back into his pants pocket, "You just take your time with this, I'm sure Angelo won't be mad we're late." Louis says.

"Oh please, when is he not mad?" I storm out of the bathroom, doing a once-over of the hotel room and picking up stray clothes abandoned along the floor and hung around the knobs of dressers. I'm not exactly the cleanest--or most organized--person on earth. A trait I've most likely acquired from various maids cleaning my room for me and a general lack of determination when it comes to getting my life together.

Louis drags his watch up to his face making a clicking noise with his tongue and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Okay, okay. I'm hurrying." I say, pushing Louis out of the room with both hands, "Get out, I need to get dressed."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" He rushes out, with that playful grin on his face as I slowly shut the door.

What do I have to do for just one moment alone?

After I've done my packing, I apply some quick makeup and I get dressed as fast as I can, in fear of Louis nagging me to hurry up. When I open the door, I'm met by Louis, holding a white rose and a confused expression on his face.

I look at him quizzically, shutting the door behind me, "I had to go sign out of our rooms and when I came back it was just lying there." He explains, pointing to the spot I'm standing in.

I look down both halls, half expecting to see the same flower dropped on every doorstep, but even with my bad vision, I can tell there are no more white roses, "That's weird, maybe someone dropped it." I say shaking it off.

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