SPEECHLESS | H.S.

| THREE |

        The air is thick in the small hallway, Room 153. It's a long walk. The two bags are progressively getting heavier. 

        I see the room numbers getting closer to where I need to go. Casually looking at the differently decorated doors. Relief floods over me when I see my room number. The door shows a small wipe board that says "Riley & Sky's Room" I snort and turn the handle and kick open the door. 

        "Holy shit." A strong British male accent carries through the room, I'm startled but calm. I just stare at him. He's shirtless, tattoos covering his torso, chest, and arms. He has long curly, disheveled hair that falls just under his ears that he just ran his hand through.

        I casually walk over to the empty bed he isn't laying in and throw my bags on the floor.

        "Were there any boxes here?" I ask wondering where all of my stuff that was supposed to arrive today is.

        "Um, no." He says standing and grabbing a shirt off the ground, groggily. He throws on a white v neck that barely shows the tattoos on his upper body. He's staring at me scratching the back of his head.

        "You must be, Riley?" He asks.

        "Well, I'm not Sky. Neither are you." I say looking back and him and giving him another once over. I cross my arms, ignoring the fatal attraction forming in my stomach. I know I'm being rude.

        "No, I'm Harry. Sky's friend." He laughs a little and goes to shake my hand. Not boyfriend? Shut up, Riley.

        I shake his hand shortly and go back to my bed. Where is all my stuff? I go to check my phone to check tracking then it hits me once again. I've got no phone.

        "Well Harry, can I use your phone?" I hold my hand out.

        "You don't have a phone?" He asks confused, he's still not handing me his phone.

        "No." my arm grows tired of holding it awkwardly in front of him.

        "Why?"

        Seriously, why isn't he just letting me use his phone?

        "Because I left it in Wisconsin." I sigh.

        His face lights up a little. Next thing I know, he's ripping his shirt off. The second time today I'll see him without a shirt on. He walks towards me, my eyes grow wide. I back away slightly, suddenly terrified. I throw my hands up.

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        "This isn't happening today." I laugh. He tears his shirt off and continues walking towards me. Reality hits me hard when he grabs my waist. I try to scream, but his free hand covers my mouth.

        He pushes me against the side of the bed as my knees buckle and I fall backwards. My scream turns into a whimper as he slams on top of me.

        "You've been asking for this. What the fuck is your problem?" He says sternly. 

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        Reality floods back to me as two hands shake my shoulders. I open my eyes. His emerald eyes are staring at me intently now. My facial expression changes from scared to pissed off quick. I stand up abruptly. My head still catching up to my heart.

        "Are you okay?" He asks crossing his arms in front of me.

        "Yeah, sorry. Just a panic attack I guess." I brush off my sleeves.