The cab ride took place in awkward silence, and after the first few minutes, Hunter turned away from Bobbi, his jaw a little rigid, and watched blindly out the window as the city blocks slipped by. Okay, so painful, uncomfortable silence it would be. Make no mistake, this wasn’t him being her knight in shining armor and coming to her rescue. This was her barely tolerating the fact that he was sitting in a car next to her.
He glanced over and sighed before turning resignedly back to his window. Hell, she was practically asleep over there. Maybe she wasn’t even tolerating him. Maybe she hardly even realized he was there.
Her apparent apathy persisted as he trailed her into the hotel, and whether Bobbi was too drunk to notice he was following her or genuinely didn’t care, Hunter wasn’t sure; but he followed her all the same. She was certainly in no shape to look after herself, and while maybe it was stupid and unnecessary and a bad idea for him to be doing this, he was doing it anyway, hang all the objections.
She staggered to the elevator, into it, out of it, and into her room and immediately flung herself into the bathroom, and the sounds that subsequently emanated from behind the bathroom door left no doubt as to what was going on. Hunter hovered in the hotel room doorway for a minute, uncertain, before coming into the room and closing the door quietly behind him. He stood, shifting his weight uneasily from foot to foot, arms hanging at his sides, then crossing over his chest. Should he go in there? God, that might be poking the bear. Maybe better to let her handle it herself, and only intervene if the minutes stretched on far longer than really seemed reasonable.
He was starting to think more seriously about checking on her when she emerged, dragging herself across the floor to the bed, complexion paler than usual and dark circles coalescing under her eyes. Behind his wall of guardedness and cynicism, Hunter’s heart couldn’t help but squeeze sharply. His jaw shifted from one side to the other as she flopped down, mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out. And then he was pretty sure she was falling asleep.
He didn’t want to leave her alone, not like this, and they’d survive without him at work for a while. He drew a chair over to sit where he could at least see her and make sure she kept on breathing - long habit, he supposed.
He shook those memories out of his mind, fumbling in his pocket for his phone, then firing off a text message to his assistant back at the the stage. Something came up. Be back later.
S he wasn’t sure how long she was asleep for — it wasn’t a peaceful sleep at all, though. by the time she DID wake up, it felt like she got twenty minutes, twenty five tops. but when she opened her eyes and looked at the hotels clock, coupled with her headache and feeling much more sober than this morning, she realized it was a few hours.
B obbi turned in the bed, her stomach churning from the movement, causing her to groan. okay, she should have known her combination of drinks this morning would kill her. beer before liquor, after all. she deserved this.
I n a sober state, she was better knowing when she was in the wrong. her head would hurt, but it would be clear too. so she knew, as she finally came too, that maybe, just maybe, her complete meltdown at lance was unwarranted. speaking of which…
B lue eyes flickered over toward him, sitting in a chair not far from her. it was a familiar sight, from the days when they were together and she’d get too fucked up. never this bad, but bad enough where he felt the need to make sure she’d be okay. suddenly very, very aware of the situation and slightly ashamed, the blonde closed her eyes and buried her head in the pillow, in a hope that maybe, just maybe, this was still a dream.
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