BRAINWASHED ─ marvel

VII. Dreams

Chapter Seven:
Bucky

Since there are three days of traveling ahead of us to get to Lensk, we decide to stop at a hotel for the night; a very run down, sketchy hotel off the main road near an equally sketchy looking park. It's not ideal, but we don't have a lot of options. Even if we did, staying in a nicer hotel brings more risk of exposure and capture, so the crappier the better.

The lobby of the hotel is cast in a dark yellow from the old chandelier, which sways back and forth in the air despite there being no breeze to cause such swaying. By the creaking sounds it's making I would venture to guess it's about to fall down. The walls are covered in yellow floral wallpaper that was definitely a different color when it was first put up, the floors are white tile that have hundreds of cracks in them, and the entire room smells strongly of mold. The smell is so strong Soroya has to hold her nose, and when she notices my concerned stare, she shrugs and says; "Heightened senses. Sometimes it's a curse."

The person behind the front desk raises their head from a book at the sound of Soroya's voice, then with a scowl, asks; "One bed or two?"

"Two." Soroya and I say simultaneously. I glance at her and find her cheeks a rosy red. I bet mine are just as flushed.

They flick their gaze between the two of us, then they place a key on the counter and return to their book. I mumble a thank you and grab the key, peering down at it to see the number seven written on it with a black sharpie. Silently, Soroya and I walk down the hallway past the front desk, stopping at a door that has a seven spray painted on it in black spray paint. With a twist of the key, we enter our room, and it's just as lovely as the lobby.

"At least the mold isn't as bad in this room." Soroya says, depositing her backpack on top of one of the beds, rubbing her nose.

I take off my own backpack, but I refrain from placing it down on the bed in front of me. "Can you use your animal senses to find out if there's bed bugs and lice in these beds?"

"I don't need animal senses to tell you that there's both, but I'll humor you," She inspects the beds, taking in deep breaths as she does so, then nods to me. "The top blankets on both beds are fine, don't touch anything else."

"How are the floors?"

"Better than the beds."

"Then the floor it is." I reply, taking off the blanket Soroya deemed okay and draping it on the floor at the end of the left bed. I drop my backpack onto it next and use it as a pillow once I lay down. Soroya does the same, but her makeshift bed is in front of the right bed a few feet away.

"Comfortable?" I ask.

"No," Soroya says with a chuckle, curling onto her side so she's now facing me. "But I'm used to sleeping on the floor, or on things just as uncomfortable."

I copy her movements and turn towards her as well. "Me too. I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed."

In the dim flickering light of the room's lamp, most of her body is cast in darkness, but I can still see her face well enough; Soroya's eyes are currently focused on the floor separating us, her long lashes fanning against her cheekbones. Her hair is pushed over her shoulder, tucked behind her ear, her lips curved up in the smallest of smiles.