29. | blankets of snow

4.7K 234 53
                                    

"Daisy

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

"Daisy..." A soft voice mumbles in my ear, an even softer hand stroking mine swiftly, only to lift it up to my face and strike a few strings of hair behind my ear. "Wake up, we're here."

I mumble a complaint and groan, not wanting to leave the warmth of the shoulder I'm laying my head on. The voice becomes recognizable and I force my eyes open, only to remember why I'm in the back of cab, joined by Ethan and Lexi.

We're on the run, for my father. How long will we be able to avoid him?

"Come on Daisy," Ethan mumbles as he traces his palm over my cheek, leaving a trial of tingles behind.

I let my sleepy eyes flutter close at his touch, sighing audibly. I remove my head from his shoulder at last and glance out of the window. "Where are we?" I ask as Ethan steps out, grabbing my hand and making me leave the enjoyable heat of the car, shuddering as soon as the cold winter wind hits me.

"An unpopular motel out of town." He answers, following my eye movements. "We'll be fine here, for a while. I couldn't think of another safe space, so this will have to do."

I nod while yawning and close the car door behind us after thanking the driver. My shoes touch the ground which is covered in blankets of snow. It's been a cold January and even though we're about to enter February, it seems like the peak of winter isn't planning on ending yet. I turn around cautiously, trying not to slip while Lexi pays and tips the driver, joining us.

"It's freezing." I whimper softly as I lean closer into Ethan. Lexi nods frantically, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Give me your hand." Ethan says, grabbing my cold hand and interlocking our fingers without a warning. I smile to myself as I sink my chin deeper into the fuzzy scarf around my neck, walking towards the entrance.

We enter the old motel, the wooden floor under our shoes squeaking because of our weight with every step we take.

"Good evening." Ethan begins speaking to the old man behind the desk, "We wanted to get a room with at least two beds, please."

The old man scrunches his nose as he slowly lets his eyes examine us, taking in our appearance and most likely wondering what brought three young people in. I can't blame him, it's the middle of a winter night and this place truly is dead.

"We have a free room with two beds." He answers as he turns around and grabs a key from the wall behind him. "For how long will you be staying?" He brings his hand with the rusty key towards Ethan.

"We're not so sure about that," Ethan answers the man's question, grabbing the key from his hand. "Would that be a problem?"

The old man chuckles as he shrugs, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "We don't really have many guests, so you can stay for as long as you wish."

As Ethan continues talking to the man, I use it as an opportunity to glance around the place. No wonder there are barely any people staying. The place looks old, the lamps barely brightening the entrance and the furniture is covered in thick layers of dust, proving there hasn't been anyone using it for quite a while. I can't imagine anyone other than desperate truck drivers sleeping here for a night.

behind barsWhere stories live. Discover now