If Home is Where the Heart is

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It was as if my head was blank as I had approached the hotel doors, they had intricate designs toward the center, consisting of glass. Flowers erupted from the bottom, coiling along the sides and up to the top of the piece, the petals were completely transparent, and the inside of the hallway painted them with an array of colors.

First the flowers were the aqua of what appeared to be a woman's purse.

Then the red of a man's shirt, and lastly the white of linoleum floors.

I opened the door slowly, scanning for an employee that would be upset by how soaked my clothing was.

When there were none to be seen, I quickly and quietly inched my way toward the elevator, pressing the button for the fourth floor.

He always chooses the suite with the balcony...

I shook my head and chuckled to myself, my fingers curling around the zipper of my jacket, fiddling with it as I felt my heart begin to race.

Ding.

I exited the elevator and made my way to the last suite at the end of the hall. I knew it well, it was the largest in the hotel, and rarely anyone could afford the fourth floor. So, it'd only be us.

I exhaled sharply as my hand made a fist, knocking softly against the door. It swung open, Patrick's face lighting up at the sight of me there, then his brow furrowed and he frowned.

"You're soaked! Why didn't you get a ride here?" He glared playfully, taking both of my hands and pulling me into his bedroom as the door clicked shut.

He was wearing a leather jacket, a light gray button-down shirt, and black jeans, discarding his shoes at the door and replacing them with black socks.

He led me to the bathroom, telling me to make myself at home and that a warm bubble bath would make me feel better. He looked away, shyly as I undressed, the wet clothing now a pile on the tile as I began running the warm water and put some bubbles in.

He blushed, a bit more red, as he leaned to pick up my clothes.

"I-I um.. I-I'm going to bring these to g-get clean." He stuttered, blushing more and shutting the door slowly.

As I lay in the bath, I could hear him humming, and the strum of his guitar.

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