these darkened stars {andy biersack}

chapter ten

a week passed, slow as the cold that was beginning to creep up on them. their stops had become more frequent, courtesy of alex wanting to stop at various cities in every state they visited. she had wanted to visit all of the different monuments, landmarks, and even national parks. andy complied, if only to ease his guilty conscience.

he still hadn't forgotten, and he guessed that she hadn't, either, by the way she stayed close to him wherever they went, and the quick glances she cast towards him to make sure he was still there, that he hadn't vanished.

everywhere. she wanted to go everywhere, preventing them from reaching their set destination in the amount of time that he previously calculated. it was already too late, so he had given up trying to push towards the west coast, and they went wherever the road (or alex) took them. their destination wasn't really their destination anymore, more like just another place to visit.

as the sun set across the horizon, they arrived in a small town in colorado, where the evening's traffic was just beginning to clear out. it was a smaller, quieter town. a far cry from the constantly rushing streets of los angeles, or the busy tourism of cincinnati. it was a nice reprieve for andy.

he glanced over at the passenger seat where alex had curled up and fallen asleep an hour or two earlier. the truck was filled with nothing but her soft, even breaths, and it soothed him. it was nice to know that there was somebody there, that somebody other than him now existed in his lonely world.

glancing back up, he spotted a sign for a motel and pulled into the parking lot. it was deserted, and glowing with a dying orange hue as the sun once again set down the horizon. the scene felt like something from a movie, a place where time both existed and didn't. he wished that time would stop completely, just for a little while, so he could stay here and enjoy the moment. a normal boy, spending time on the road with a girl that fell asleep in the passenger seat.

he parked on the far side of the lot and sat, unmoving, in his seat. it was a silent breath of air he had been needing to take, something to clear his chaotic mind. he didn't need anything else but a moment to just... sit.

the orange had turned a darker blue when andy finally broke himself from his thoughts. not wanting to wake her, he left the keys in the ignition and got out, shutting the door as softly as possible before heading inside to book a room.

"hello," he smiled at the dark-skinned man behind the counter. "how are you today?"

the man looked up and gave him a polite smile in return. "i'm doing very well, and yourself?"

he glanced outside the glass doors, the soft, tender smile remaining. "i'm doing great, thank you."

"how can i help you today, sir?"

"oh," he blinked, and pulled out his card. "right, um, i'd like to book a room for one night."

"is one bed okay?"

"uh..." andy paused, unsure. they'd always had two beds, so both of them would have plenty of space. they hadn't known each other very well before, but it had been a few weeks. was that now an option available to them?

"d-do, um, do you have a room with two beds?"

"afraid not, sir, we're booked up for the night," he answered with a sympathetic look, "but we can get a roll-away, if you'd like."

"n-no, no, that's okay. one bed is fine," he nodded, pulling out his wallet. then he said again, more to himself than anything, "one bed is fine."

once he received the two room keys, andy kindly said goodbye to the man and backtracked to his truck with a racing, anxious heart. he gripped his wallet and the key cards tightly so that his hands would stop shaking.