thirty-six hours with you | georgenotfound x reader

14. the motel

"Hey, how are you?" George smiles at the man behind the motel's front desk. I let him work his magic while I look around.

The walls are beige and there's a single reddish-brown couch along one wall. An old TV is hanging in the corner, displaying a news channel. It's not much, but it doesn't feel particularly dirty either. I'd rather have a room that's a little more worn down than one that reeks.

"We need two rooms," George clarifies. His fingers tap on the counter.

"Hm." The concierge hums as he clicks slowly on the computer. "Sorry, our internet connection seems to be slow tonight."

"Take your time," George says nicely, but his eyes sparkle with sarcasm when his face turns to me.

My hand covers my mouth to hide a smile.

"We have one room left," the man explains, "A lot of people are either extending their stays or pulling off the roads right now."

George's hand balls up into a fist. I cross my arms over my chest. Staying in a car with George for an extended period of time is one thing, but staying in a room? That's a whole new problem.

The stops at hotels are supposed to be my getaway from him; my time to be alone and recharge. How am I supposed to recharge when GeorgeNotFound is snoring in the same room?

"Is there anyone checking out today or something at least?" George's voice sounds desperate and for a good reason too.

My phone rings. George's eyes glance down at my hands to see who's calling.

"Tommy," I whisper before stepping away. The lobby is so small that they'll probably be able to hear, but there was at least an effort.

"What's going on?" Tommy asks, "Why is twitter blowing up with a picture of you next to a flat tire?"

"Um." I let out a small laugh. "Because we got a flat tire?"

"Oh my god." Tommy sounds as if he's gritting his teeth. "I get to Florida on Thursday. That's in two days, y/n."

"We'll just get there on Friday like a lot of other people," I try to wave it off, "It'll be fine."

"No, no, I don't think you understand," Tommy says, "I'm worried about my flight in two days, but you're the one driving to Florida."

"What is wrong with driving?"

"It's not the driving itself," Tommy explains, "It's the storm you'll be driving in."

My brows furrow. "Storm?" I haven't been on my phone over the past few days, so a storm hasn't even been on my radar.

"Have you not checked the weather?" Tommy says blatantly.

I turn towards the TV in the corner of the motel's lobby. A weatherman stands in front of a map, pointing to a specific area covered in red.

"You're joking," I whisper, "This cannot be happening."

"You guys aren't going to be driving in that, right?" Tommy asks with a nervous chuckle.

"It's–" I pause what I was going to say because I can't put a positive spin on this.

George is by my side now. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes blaze from his conversation with the other man. I nudge his side and point to the TV. It takes him a second to register what we're looking at.

George's jaw drops. "Are you serious?"

"We're going to have to see what happens, I guess," I reply to Tommy.

"Okay, well keep me updated," he says, "I don't want to find out through Twitter."

"You got it." I'm reading the closed-captions explaining that it won't clear up within the next twenty-four hours. "Bye, Tommy."

"Bye, be safe guys."

I hang up the phone. George and I don't speak, soaking in the fact that, even if our tire gets fixed, it might not be safe to keep driving tomorrow.

O O O

The motel's front desk is in a separate section than the room George and I will be staying in. I glance out of a window that we passed only to see a slight drizzle. Nothing too big and dangerous. If I still had my car, I would be able to drive in it.

George swipes the keycard that's needed to get into the hallway.

"Why don't I get one?" I gesture to the card as he puts it in his pocket.

"He wouldn't give me two." George shrugs.

"That's ridiculous," I say as if we're not carrying an ottoman down a hallway.

"Wait till you see the room.' George's brows raise.

He slides the card once more on the knob of room five. He lets the door fall open, motioning for me to go first.

I roll my eyes at how dramatic he's being. I may want my own time, but I'm not going to make a big deal about having to share a room. A room gives us enough space to be apart. It's a small space apart, but it's technically more than the car's seats.

I walk past him and into the room. It's not actually bad considering how drab the rest of the motel seems to be. I walk past the bathroom and the TV and the bed.

Then, I pause. "Something's missing," I comment.

George lingers in the doorway. "You think?"

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" I ask George, pointing my thumb to the singular bed in the room.

George chuckles. "Um, I'm sleeping in the bed."

"Ohh, no." I shake my head. "That's my bed."

"Nope, I am not falling for that." George shakes his own head now. "I need to actually sleep."

"As do I."

"Listen," George says, "I can be a nice guy sometimes, but I don't want to be right now. I want to sleep."

"I've driven for nineteen hours in total, George," I remind him.

"Nope," he interrupts, "if you say one more time that I can't drive, then you can sleep on the street."

"You're not even the one paying for the room," I say, "If you were, it'd be different, but you're not."

George tilts his head towards me; his brows knit together in confusion. "Meaning?"

I shrug simply. "Driver gets the bed."

George groans. "You cannot keep pulling that on me."

"I just think it's the safe option," I begin to explain.

His waist folds slightly as he buries his face in his hands. "Oh my god," he whispers.

"See?" I watch his defeated pose. "Even you see the point I'm trying to make."

He lifts his head, and his eyes meet mine. "You're going to be the death of me," he breathes out.

"Look." I gesture towards our things. "There is a perfectly good ottoman there that I think will be so comfortable."

George shakes his head, turning to close the door.

"Fine," he gives in, "It's only going to be for tonight anyways."

author's note:

a storm AND flat tire? now that's the forced proximity we love to see :)

also in the last couple chapters i think i worded things weird...  i meant that there's going to be more than thirty-six chapters in total and they'll be spending more than 36 hours together as well. if we're pretending wisconsin is correct, the 36 in the title is meant hours in the actual car not including their flat tire and such. hope that makes sense lmao

anyways have an amazing day!