[Bad As Ever || Book 2]

14°

» "baby, I would go insane for your love. Fuck what your friends say, 'cause that gotta mean somethin'..."

Miami, FL;

"Aww, so you're already packed and everything?" Paris asked John sadly over the phone upon hearing his plans to move.

She exited her car and walked toward the side door of the hotel. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and stood, as if she were contemplating.

"Almost, I got a few boxes to pack up. Now that money is y'alls, ok? Not a hand out or anything, I just didn't want to save all the prophet from the stuff I sold." He explained.

She turned around to go back to the car, nodding, "Yea, thanks. I really appreciate it."

She crawled into the car and dug into the box, pulling out the cash, which totaled to about three hundred and fifty dollars.

"No problem, I'll talk to you soon." He said. Paris replied and hug up the phone, this time leaving her car and going in through the main entrance.

"Hey. Paris, right?" The woman at the desk greeted with a smile. Paris returned to look and fiddled with the dollar bills in her pocket.

"Yea, I um— I wanted to get another room, please." She said weakly, looking at the things in the lobby and not making eye contact with the receptionist.

"Oh, ok. Is there something wrong with your current one?" She asked tilting her head.

"Oh, no," Paris chuckled, "I'm still in that one I just wanted to get another room."

"Um, alright. So you want it to be on the same floor as your other one?" She asked, typing some things into her computer.

"Actually, I would prefer that it wasn't."

She looked up for a brief said and then nodded, going back to typing. Paris soon paid for the room and was given the key.

She had decided to give Bryson his space. She didn't want anything being said that either of them would regret, although it seemed Bryson might have already crossed that line from simply not saying anything.

She found her room, which was on the third floor, while Bryson was currently on the second. She went back to her car and retrieved the box, taking up to the new room of hers.

She then went back down to the second floor to find Bryson like she had left him, on the bed.

"Where'd you go?" He asked softly, chewing the corner of his mouth like he did often.

"To the post office. John sent me a big box of my mother's things." She said sitting the keys on the desk.

Bryson nodded, "You need help bringing it in?"

"I already brought it in..." She informed him, pulling her coat tighter on her body.

Bryson looked over at her strangely, not seeing a box.

"I don't see a box."

"I put it in my room. I just came to get some other stuff too." She said pointing to the clothes in the corner.

"Your room? Wait, you got another room?" He asked sitting up completely in bed.

"Yea, just for a little while." She shrugged.

"You know I didn't mean what I said, right? I'm not tired of you Paris." He shook his head and stood in front of her, grabbing both sides of her hips.

"Whether you meant it or not, it doesn't matter. We just need some space. Then everything will be o—" she quickly cut herself off and softly pushed past him, going to get her things.

"Paris..." He sighed but she was already gathering her things and once she got them, she left out of the room.

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