Escaping Christian

8: Fire & Ice

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"Chels."

"No,"

"Yes. Get up, we're going in ten."

I cracked an eye open and stared at the man standing above me, clothes changed, bag on, shoes on, hair dishevelled and the face of a smacked ass. He looked like a force to be reckoned with.

So, of course, I reckoned. Because to be honest, my mood was as bad as his. "Can't we have another half hour, it feels like we only just got in."

"No." He said and my eyes narrowed when he simply left me and walked out of the room.

Someone clearly didn't sleep well on the damn floor which was his own decision anyway so in retrospect, it was his fault. I hadn't slept well either. And it wasn't because of when I first tried sleeping, I'd replayed the scene of Christian wiping the blood from my mouth, no. It was because Christian kept tossing and turning on the floor and getting up to go to the bathroom and then tossing and turning all over again because he was clearly trying to get comfortable.

It was his on damn fault. I didn't even try to tell him to just get on the bed or even the chair again. I let him suffer. Maybe he knew a line was crossed and decided to punish himself, I don't know and I simply didn't care.

Changing into my shorts and vest, I scowled. One step forward, two steps back.

Checking the clock on the wall, I scowled deeper when I saw we'd only been 'sleeping' for three hours. It was only three am. I joined him at the thankfully empty reception desk. I'm glad I won't be seeing that guy again.

Outside, the night was still. The shisha place across the road was dark; quiet. Christian led the way through town, turning through random streets and remaining as quiet as a mouse. Ten minutes of walking and he was still sporting a glower.

"We're going to Al Mazar now right? The town where we meet that couple?" I asked when he still hadn't spoken.

"Yep."

Staring up into his face it was still as impenetrable as when we'd left the hostel. "You know what," I growled. "If you're going to continue being this damn grumpy then maybe you should have thought before inviting me to feed with you."

Finally, he met my eye. "I'm only grumpy because I slept on the floor not because of us feeding together."

"You insisted. I won't be made to feel bad about it when you made your own bed and quite literally lay in it." The corner of his mouth twitched into an almost smile and I had to praise myself. "Just to clarify, you don't feel we may have... crossed some form of line by feeding together? Because, you know, it got... a bit..."

"A bit what?"

Maybe it was just me. But then he was good at hiding what he felt and what he really meant. He could be lying to my face right now and I wouldn't know. For one, the first night we were in that hostel, I'd said just sleep in the bed and he did it without question. Last night though?

"Nothing." I finally said, deciding to keep my thoughts to myself. "Never mind."

"To answer your question, no, I don't feel like we crossed a line. What would make you think we did?"

"No reason." I shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't matter. I just thought because you insisted on sleeping on the floor... it had something to do with-"

"Don't worry your brain." He patted my head and then tugged on a lock of my hair. "Where's your hat?"

I knocked his hand away. "In my bag; I'll put it on when we leave town. Are you a little less grumpy now?"

"A little less." He smiled slightly but it didn't reach his eyes.