DamiRae Oneshots

Two Rooms, Please.

"Two rooms, please." Damian huffed at the tender old lady behind the desk of the motel. The snow that rested upon his and Raven's shoulders was already thawing from the very much welcomed blast of heat that met them when they entered the rundown building.

Damian crossed his arms and looked around the lobby and began drumming his fingers lightly on his forearm. It was like any other motel; the smell of old age and rotting wood lingered like body spray in a lockerroom. To his right he could see a fireplace (very much out of commission); couple of tables accompanied by some chairs (was one of them broken? What the hell?).

Oh, and he tried to not pay attention to the moldy carpet in which he and Raven stood on.

The lady — a plump woman in her mid fifties, with glasses and graying hair — didn't seem to hear him. She was reading a book (Damian couldn't tell, let alone care) that seemed to have all of her attention. Damian sent a sideways glance to Raven, who was trying her best to hide her chills.

Seriously, why would Kori, in her right mind, send a half-demon who cannot handle the cold to Alaska in December. Where the weather is almost always a constant -26°C/-15°F temperature (the locals consider -23°C/-10°F a fucking heatwave).

"There might be a magical text there in the woods in Yukon.", her matter-of-fact voice sounded in the depths of his mind,"That is why Raven will be there!" she ended cheerfully. Wait, did she say that last sentence cheerfully?

Damian wasn't in a good mood, so he decided she did say it cheerfully.

And this lady was not helping his mood.

Damian cleared his throat a bit too loudly without a second thought. All manners and politeness went out of the window a couple minutes ago, and he didn't feel Raven's sharp elbow against his ribs in protest. Or maybe because she didn't want to bruise his already bruised ribs and the stitched wound that lay there.

Yeah. Turns out Ice Giants love Alaska. Who knew?

The lady looked up from her book and scanned the two new arrivals in front of her with unamusement (and annoyance, Damian mused) and let out a sharp sigh. She dog-eared the page she was on (Damian heard Raven wince at the lady's action) and set it down with a deft plop!

"How can I help you today?" The senior said in a forced chipper tone, and Damian felt his patience growing dangerously thin. Raven must have noticed this, and smiled at the old lady. The lady's return smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Two rooms, please." Raven said, repeating what Damian had minutes prior. Raven shouldered her backpack and dug through it to pull out her wallet, but stopped when the senior clicked her tongue.

"Ooooh, I'm sorry," she said in mock sympathy, like she actually felt bad, "But we only have one room. All the others are occupied." Damian was about to call bullshit before he felt Raven quietly yank his coat sleeve out of the Lady's field of view.

"Perfect." Raven replied. Damian knew there was more than a little annoyance in her voice, but if the senior heard it, she didn't say.

After the money was exchanged and the Lady gave them their key, Damian and Raven strolled down the hallway towards their room. The hallway was like that of a horror movie: cracks in the walls, a light that has long been done doing what it was manufactured to do, creaky hardwood floor... the whole nine yards.

He would've complained to his comrade who was leading the way, but the adrenaline from the fight earlier was finally getting to him, and his side was killing him to add to everything. He unzipped his jacket a bit and slipped a hand in to feel the raw side, and when he pulled back he saw red. Shit, he opened his cut. Raven is not going to be pleased.