He's not afraid (a Scott Hoying & Mitch Grassi fanfiction)

Sneaky Ninjas (REVISED)

I woke up with the sun hitting my face and, as I tried to stretch, I realized I was really sore, but I didn't want Scott to notice. He was still soundly sleeping when I woke up, though, so I got up and, with a certain level of extreme difficulty, I went to the bathroom and locked myself inside. Looking at my sleepy self in the mirror, I noticed my face appeared to have changed: it was brighter, happier. I smiled as I thought of the night we've had and, letting the cold water flow, I entered the shower. I let the cold water run on me and I closed my eyes, thinking about life.

When I finally gained the courage to turn off the water, I did so and stepped off the shower. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it around my waist carefully, I was one rough movement away from triggering my horrible pain again. With another towel, I soaked the water from my body and I left the bathroom soaking my hair. I walked towards my Chanel bag, trying to find some boxers.

As soon as I found them and put them on, I went to my side of the bed and I cleaned it up, putting my clothes and Scott's clothes in the laundry basket resting in the other side of the door. I hate messes, I confess. I can't stand living or even being in a pigsty, it's utterly gross. I heard a noise and, looking to my left, I saw Scott moving on the bed, his face still swollen from sleeping. We smiled at each other and I kept doing what I was doing.

"How are you?" he asked me, his voice still pitched down. How adorable.

"Sore." I answered, which made him giggle. "Don't laugh Hoying, I don't think I'll be able to sit properly for weeks."

"It's my fault." he said rubbing his eyes. I questioned his statement. "Literally. I should've stretched you first, but I completely forgot." he relaxed his shoulders. "Whatever, maybe next time."

"Who told you there would be a "next time"?" I asked, smiling at him and at his confidence.

"Yeah, like there isn't going to be a next time." He said getting out of the bed. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, trying not to laugh.

******

The night fell and I thanked every single God and every saint there was. Staying all day inside a hotel room can be emotionally and physically exhausting because, no matter how many games of Monopoly we'd play or Spongebob Squarepants we'd watch, we'd eventually get bored. Scott left for about an hour during the afternoon but of course I had to stay in the room.

I put on another outfit (1), I didn't even care if it was appropriate for the situation or not. Scott was wearing a plain black shirt, black jeans and his beloved snapback from Joyrich, the leopard-print one. He wasn't saying anything, he seemed extremely focused on the screen of his smartphone.

"Ready?" he asked me. I nodded as I saw him handing me a gun. It was a really cute one, a silver six shooter gun with some art on it. "I had it personalized just for you." he said, putting it on my belt.

"Who has one too, Esther or Dice?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him. He quickly shook his head, though.

"For someone who claims they "ain't afraid" you ask a lot of questions, Mitchell." he said looking at me. Then, he pulled me by the hand and drove me out of the room. As we exit the hotel I noticed there was a Range Rover parked there, waiting for us. "What, did you really think we'd walk there?" he asked and I had to slap his arm.

******

When we got there, the place was deserted: the only thing we could clearly hear was the sound of the sea waves hitting the rocks. It was a surprisingly cold night, and no matter how much I hugged myself, I'd still feel my bones freezing. Scott parked the car a bit far away and we walked to the rendezvous, me following him just a few steps behind.