RED ROOM [H.S]

19.

30 hours to go...

I genuinely wanted to throw myself out of the car, onto oncoming traffic, where I could slowly roll to my death and hopefully get hit by a car in the process. That would be far less painful than the car ride I was currently enduring.

I had been locked away in Harry's car for seven hours while he drove silently. Seven. Fucking. Hours. Apart from the occasional bathroom break and the once off food stop, Harry didn't speak, nor did he look as if he wanted to take a break from driving anytime soon. My legs were cramping up, and my nerves about being alone with him were slowly turning into anger. I couldn't sit still. The view of city lights had turned into passing cars, which turned into a blur of nothing. The day had turned into nightfall, which was sucky enough, but to top it off, it looked as if a thunderstorm was on its way. The force of the rain was making it hard to see the road, Harry's eyes had narrowed in concentration about an hour ago, and his facial expression hadn't changed since. The wind shook and howled against the car, shaking it as Harry sped down the highway. If it wasn't for his tight grip on the wheel, I wouldn't of thought the heavy rain bothered him.

I glanced down at the clock on the dashboard, frowning at the time. 9:32PM. I wondered when we were going to stop - if we were going to stop. I know Harry was a fucking nutcase, but surely he needed to sleep as well? There was no way he could even think he could drive the remaining hours to New York without stopping.

I drummed my fingers against the door handle, desperate to speak, but knowing Harry had pretty much forbidden me to, unless he spoke to me first. I felt like some fucking lap dog, sitting there silently, waiting for their owner to tell them that they were a good little dog. I scowled at the mere thought, looking out the window for a distraction, though only getting greeted by a whole lot of darkness. This was like torture. I sighed to myself.

Harry drove silently for what seemed hours, but was really only about another ten minutes. He made a sharp left turn onto the nearest exit. Two minutes in, I realized why he did, and I almost kissed his fucking feet. Despite the rain, I could make out the red neon sign of the dodgy looking motel. Wordlessly, he pulled into a car space and tugged his phone out of jeans that looked too tight for his body. I could of sworn he had said he had burnt that in the sink, but who was I to trust anything that came out of his mouth, like honestly?

"We're crashing here for the night," he murmured, putting his phone away and meeting my eyes. He looked beyond exhausted. "No funny business, I'm not in the mood for it. We go in, we sleep, and then we leave tomorrow morning, got it?"

I nodded, which made him roll his eyes. "You can speak now, or someone's going to think you're a bloody mute."

I glared at the back of his head as he ducked out of the car. He pulled out two bags from the backseat, one being mine, the only one I had, and another being his before he demanded me to get out of the car.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, I wished I was back in it. The rain was icy, and the wind fucking hurt as it slammed against me. It was almost impossible to see what was in front of me, but I watched the blur of Harry's body, and chased after him as he practically sprinted towards the small reception cubicle that was under the first flight of stairs.

An old man sat behind the desk, wrapped in a jacket that was at least four sizes too big for him. He had a frown on his lips when he saw us approach, and ushered us closer to get out of the rain.

"Lucky you guys just got here!'' He shouted over the rain, shaking his head. "Can you believe this is just the start of the storm?"

He squinted at an ancient computer that sat in front of him, and nodded to himself before he reached behind him and grabbed a set of keys. "Room 15!"