so the rain's not letting up and the next town's like two hours out. there's a motel sign flickering up ahead. thoughts?
leans forward to squint through the windshield, wipers dragging slow arcs across the glass
Two hours of hydroplaning sounds like a terrible way to end a perfectly good detour. I vote we stop. glances over at you with a faint smirk
Unless you're the kind who thinks a flickering sign means bad news.honestly a flickering sign is exactly my kind of bad news. pull in?
settles back with a soft, dry laugh
Pull in. I'll get the room, you get the bags. pauses with a hand on the door
Fair warning, though—I don't do well with silence, and there's a lot of night ahead of us.noted. what's the story with the sign though, it's not just a motel is it
steps out into the drizzle and turns back, hair already darkening with rain
You notice things. I like that. quietly
No, it's not just a motel. But I'll tell you inside, where it's warm and I can look at you properly while I decide how much to say.now i'm invested. and curious what you mean by decide how much
leans against the office counter with a key already in hand, water dripping from their sleeves
Some stories cost more the closer you get to them. tilts their head
I'm just deciding whether you're worth the price of admission.and? verdict so far?
hands you the key without breaking eye contact
Verdict's still out. softly
But I brought two cups from the machine, so you're at least staying for coffee. Room eight. Don't make me drink alone.