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*Click*
The blackness of the room is suddenly illuminated with blinding white light, and though I squint my eyes against the intrusion, I don’t stop moving. I’m now on a rather demanding timetable, and I can’t afford to lose even a second. “Leon.”
He stirs instantly, rolling to face the sound of my voice, pulling himself out of sleep’s hold. “What is it.”
“You can sleep in the truck, right?” I ask apologetically as my fingers work to tie the old straps of my worn leather boots.
He wipes his face and stretches, his fist colliding with the headboard. The loud *thunk* it elicites startles him, and he looks over at me with an expression of mixed confusion, embarrassment and sleepiness, which would be quite amusing if I wasn’t so exhausted. “Why.”
I stand and start stuffing things into my duffle without any organization, subconsciously knowing that if I don’t organize, not everything will fit. “I just, uh… We need to go, we just need to get outta here.” The small bag containing my essentials slips out of my fingers before I can zip it closed, and it falls to the floor, leaving the contents scattered across the rough motel carpet. “Goddammit…” I mutter, hastily stooping to collect my toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, hair ties, and a few other odds and ends.
Leon sits up in bed, the cover slipping off his bare chest, his head now slightly more involved in the game. “Nor, what’s going on?”
I sigh internally as I continue my search of the room, gathering my things and putting his in a pile for him to collect, if he ever gets off his ass. “I got a call.”
“From who?”
“Hogwarts. Who else.” I sling my overstuffed bag over my shoulder, feeling the strain in my muscles and the tension in my shoulder. “I’ve been summoned.”
“Again?” he asks incredulously.
“Duty calls…” I mumble, sidestepping towards the motel door with chipped red paint and dirty panelled windows.
“When do we need to leave?” he asks, stretching to a less than graceful stand and scratching the back of his head.
I’m halfway out the door, the freezing wind biting at my skin as large water droplets pound the ground. I turn and look at him solemnly, the gravity of the situation finally starting to sink in despite my best attempts not to let it. “Yesterday.”
WhitneyCarter said:
I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you this, but I always love your dialogue. It’s usually center-stage in your pieces, propelling the story forward and while also offering a weighty expectation/foreshadowing feel. Is this a one-shot or is there more planned?
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DakotaCarter said:
Thank you so much! I always have more planned for my pieces, the question is if I ever get around to it 😃
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