Hotel Room

Willow

More warmth envelopes me when he places his arm around my shoulder, and I decide pause my hate for him, and to continue with it later.

We get under his umbrella and hurry to the hotel across the street. When I get out of the shower, I find a white t-shirt of his laid on the bed and I try it on. It is big, but comfortable.

He takes a single glance at me when I walk out of the bedroom, and immediately looks away, his focus on the TV, but his clenched fists doesn't escape my notice.

"I, I hope you don't mind."

He shakes his head.

Once we are seated on the couch, we order food, and later we order snacks while we watch a series about vampires in silence.

“How are you?” He glances at me.

“What do you mean, how am I? Do you want to ask me about Liam? You came to my place to talk about Liam, right? What's so important?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think Liam is worth our attention anymore.”

I look in his direction, and the more I try to figure out what’s going on or why he is following me around, the more I feel as if my brain is going to explode. He can’t possibly be sent by Lucy, he’s a professor, but how did he know that Liam and I were in the forest? Is he Lucy's brother?

“You have just lost your brother, and you had to leave your family behind to go to campus,” he breaks the silence.

“I know, but I will be okay.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened.” His words sound authentic, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Thank you.”

“What’s limbicus?” he asks.

I stiffen. That word sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me. I wish I didn't have to hear it again.

“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole for even asking. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s okay!” I exhale. “It’s a modern drug, and it’s very famous. You wouldn’t know it, of course. Do you ever go to clubs?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No time.”

“I knew it.”

“You think I’m the most boring, most serious and horrible person in the world.” He says matter-of-factly.

I let out a dramatic gasp. “I would never think or say that about my favourite professor.”

His face lights up, and his lips twitch. “Do you mind telling me what I did for you to hate me? You can't possibly hate me because I responded to your email with 'lazy and entitled.'”

“You failed me.”

“That’s it?”

“Wow!” I chuckle. “I know that’s not a surprise. You fail students all the time, you are like a sadist, and it makes you feel good. But you were extra brutal to me.”

“How?” he knits his eyebrows.

“You said my presentation sounded like something I put together 20 minutes before I had to be in the auditorium. You said that in an auditorium filled with students and professors. I dropped out to work at a restaurant for a year.”

He chuckles. “Why did you come back?”

I glare at him. “Are you not supposed to say sorry?”

“No!” He shakes his head. “Why did you come back?”

“I wanted to help my brother, his cells stopped dividing,” I blink back the tears.

“Hey, it's okay,” he whispers. He almost reaches out to put his arm around me, but then he pulls back.

“And I also think I went back to probably to spite you,” I sniffle.

He chuckles lightly. “You are Willow Gordon?”

“Yes.”

“But I was clear. I said you weren’t ready, and you needed...”

“You called me lazy,” I interject.

“Because you didn’t dig deeper into the research.”

“I was desperate. I wanted something that would help my brother as soon as possible. You could've been gentle, and no one said a word, because it’s you. Even other professors treat you like some superhuman.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t apologize for that. You needed to hear it. Otherwise, you weren’t going to be ready for the next steps. I saw a potential in you.”

“And here it is, that arrogance!” I groan. “I can’t stand you. I’m leaving.”

“You will do no such thing! Hate me all you want, but you are not going anywhere. You can stay in your room and sulk if that’s what you want.”

“See? This is why I didn’t want to come here. You and I would never really get along.” I get up with no idea where I’m going. This room is really warm, but I feel dramatic.

“Eat first,” he orders gently. “Please?”

I huff before sitting back down, trying to ensure that I pull my best annoyed face.

"My brother and I bonded over calling you a jerk, thou. Good times." I smile, happy memories of Marcel flooding my mind.

"It was my pleasure," his greyish blue eyes light up.

"You villain!"

He chuckles.

We turn our attention back to the screen and silently watch the vampires.

“I have a crush on that guy,” I blurt out.

“Oh?” A ghost of a smile crosses his lips.

“I mean, not in real life. I like his character.” I feel my cheeks burning.

“I get it.” He chuckles, and I slightly punch his arm.

We refocus on the series, and I feel my eyes getting heavy.

“Goodnight, Willow,” I hear a distant whisper.

I open my eyes, realizing that I have been sleeping.

“Goodnight, psychic stalker,” I smile.

We both sit still, without any of us moving. Then I close my eyes, and I move my lips towards his. He doesn’t move away, but I feel his hesitation as we kiss, until he places his hand on my back, pulling me closer to him. I try to convince myself to pull away, but my reasoning has flown out of the window.

He pulls away first, taking deep breaths, while gazing at me.

The frown that I’m used to returns to his face. Am I that much of a bad kisser? “We really shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know, especially since I have a boyfriend,” I say it mainly to prove that I don’t want him.

“You do?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes!”

“Who?”

“Liam is my boyfriend.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are we still calling him your boyfriend?”

“And here you go, being your charming self again,” I say sarcastically.

“Willow, Liam doesn’t deserve you or your loyalty.”

I glare at him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

I get up abruptly and head to the room, relieved that I almost hate him again.

The memory of the kiss keeps revisiting my mind, and then I see Liam’s glare in my dream. He gives me the same look that I experienced in the forest, and even more furious. I wake up with my heart pounding and the sheets soaking wet with sweat.

My phone rings, and my hands shake as I stare at Liam’s caller ID.