thin white lines | l. hemmings

16

That night they got back to the hotel at close to midnight and Delaney went straight to her room, not even bothering to say a word to any of the boys, even when Michael unlocked her door for her. She was still warm with how angry Luke had made her. It seemed worse because she knew he was partially right.

She had a shower and changed into some comfy clothes, which made her feel better than she did before, but she still felt tense and wanted someone to talk to. She took out her phone and went through her contacts, clicking on Willow's name and waiting for it to ring.

For some reason, she hadn't answered her text from earlier, even though she had had plenty of time to do so. But she called anyway because she might've seen the text and forgot to answer. But she didn't answer that either. Delaney wasn't particularly alarmed because it was late at night, and Willow liked to sleep.

So she went onto the balcony of her room and leaned on the barrier, overlooking the cityscape, oddly craving a cigarette. Even though she had only smoked once in the past few weeks and only because she was drunk and it was offered to her.

The ambient noise of the city below her calmed her antsy body down enough that she was able to peacefully fall asleep when she went back inside to try. She slept with no interruptions and woke up on her own by around eleven the next day.

All she did for the day was order lunch to her room. Normally all she did was stay in her room until told otherwise and she wasn't told otherwise for almost the whole day.

For concerts, they'd usually come and get her a while after noon, which gave them enough time to do their socializing backstage, while dodging Quinn and the other crew members who were just trying to do their jobs.

This time, she heard a knock at half-past six, which wasn't typical. She curiously yelled towards it, "What?"

"We're going out, get dressed if you're not!" Ashton yelled back, louder than she had.

"Out where?" She pulled her comfortable blanket off her bare legs and jogged to the door, revealing Ashton standing alone wearing a yellow button-up shirt.

"To dinner," he told her simply. She stared at him for a moment before answering, confused at the random invitation.

"Who is?" She asked.

"Me, you, the other three, and some of our friends." He shrugged, not bothering to give out the names that he know she wouldn't recognize if he did. "I'm coming back in five minutes. You don't have to wear something too fancy, but not too casual either. I'll be back," he rambled, pointing a finger at her as he spoke before he walked briskly back into his hotel room.

With her brows knitted together, she slowly shut the door and went right away to change instead of trying to figure out why they were bringing her out to dinner. Ashton's vague dress code led her to a little blue skirt that had small white flowers spread out along the fabric, and a white t-shirt.

She had changed just in time for Ashton and Michael to poke their heads into the room and tell her they were leaving, even though it wasn't the full five minutes she was promised.

Calum and Luke were waiting in the hall for them when Michael closed the door behind her, she didn't even risk the eye-contact. She figured it was them, but recognized him only out of the corners of her vision.

The two of them have had their little squabbles, but something about this one was different. She really had risked their lives, and Luke was a bit extreme in his reaction but he wasn't doing it to be a dick. She was surprised he was even okay with her coming along to the dinner.

She knew better than to think too much into it though, she knew she'd get little to no answers and it'd just be much easier to wait and see the outcome.