Huffing out another laugh, I slick my hand over my hair and take one last look at the line of taxis pulling up out front, flicking rain out of my eyes before chasing after him. I've got a tight grip on his wrist before I even open my mouth, stopping him mid step and risking the almost inevitable punch to the jaw.
"I'm not going back with you to some fucking hotel room and your briefcase of tricks. I'm done with your hotel rooms."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:07 am (UTC)"I'm not going back with you to some fucking hotel room and your briefcase of tricks. I'm done with your hotel rooms."