28 - Saturday, January 23

                                    

                                          
It was wonderful, really, how peaceful nights could mute common concerns.
There was a long time when the nights seemed to carry with them a weight of their own, a weight that crushed restful minds. But tonight, I felt weightless. The sky lacked the stars I had grown accustomed to, the air lacked the fragrance of fresh earth and crisp coldness, and not even windows could keep away the noise, yet somehow the din had a calming lull to it, like white noise in a familiar place.
The day had taken a lot out of both of us. Alex had looked dog-tired when we arrived at the hotel and greyer than usual, but the strain of the day quickly melted. Perhaps that feeling came from having no expectations, somehow no obligations, and no worries. We had been able to let go, to unwind, to free ourselves from the heaviness that had unknowingly pressed down on us and long worn out its welcome. 
I did know it was only the beginning, though a much-needed one.
"Anything interesting over there?"
Even in the dead of night, there were always lights and traffic still roaring past on the other side of the window. "Not really." I sighed, not taking my eyes off the city. "Feels like I've seen it all already. And that I don't miss it like I thought I would."
Alex didn't say much in return, only yawned and flopped down onto the mattress after her shower. I knew she must've been exhausted, especially for anything deeper than a sarcastic comment or some small talk—Gabi had gone off to sleep a while ago for the same reason—but something had made me linger. I could have continued the conversations forever, and even if only for a night, I was hesitant to part ways and wanted to selfishly drive Alex crazy for as long as I could. 
"You know," she said with a yawn, "since Benji ended up not coming, there's a vacant bed here."
That made me turn around and face her at last, pretending to mull it over, even though she had practically read my thoughts and I had already decided. "Are you suggesting something?"
"I'm just stating a fact." Alex played innocent. "Maybe you don't want to sleep alone or are scared of the dark or something."
"Sleeping with the lights on might be a deal-breaker."
"Gotta protect you from the monsters, no?"
"You could've offered your protection before we booked the rooms."
"I'll pay you back."
My brow shot up. "Paying me to spend the night with you? Now that would be suggesting something."
Alex groaned and threw her head back on the bed, mumbling into her palms, "I give up. Can you stop being a pain in the ass and just say yes?"
"I don't know, Alex. You snore."
"What? I don't."
My cheeky smirk must've shone through, for it immediately mirrored on her face. I enjoyed teasing her endearing pride like that whenever she clearly wanted something and always found an indirect yet utterly obvious way to wiggle her way into getting it. Usually, I was reluctant. Always, I caved. 
"Only because you asked. Your room has the better view anyway," I said. "But that's only if I won't find anything better to stare at."
"If you're expecting to see me naked tonight, don't get your hopes up."
"And I'm the one with the high ego? There happens to be a perfectly good TV in this room, Alex, and I haven't seen a movie in years."
Her glare was expected and short-lived as the corner of her mouth slowly gave back way to the subtle smirk. "Sure, sure."