Hotel Rooms and Bedbugs

Written by Wolsal, unassisted by grammer-check

The grass and sticks crunched under Solomon’s hooves as he walked- taking in a deep inhale of the damp, cooling air. 

He and Keith had arranged a meeting that night- an arrangement admittedly difficult to make. Solomon, or Sameal as he’d claimed to be called, hadn’t given any indication as to where he lived. It would be foolish to do so- a dead giveaway as to his secret. 

Keith, a rogue with no one place to call home, was similarly difficult to locate. 

Meeting at the same time in the same place was the only way- and he wasn’t going to mess up that arrangement by bailing. And he hadn’t- after perhaps a year now, neither had failed to show up.

For this reason, Sameal made his way to the arranged hotel despite his ill disposition. 

He couldn’t get sick in the normal way- not the way a mortal may fall ill. 

His affliction was stronger- more permanent. Sometimes it was barely noticeable- to him at least. Other times it made it difficult to do so much as roll over. 

Today fell under the latter category. He was exhausted- body aching and bones tired. But he didn’t want to just bail- he couldn’t. 

Sure, this arrangement meant nothing really. He didn’t have any reason to be going when he couldn’t fulfill the purpose of the meeting- but he wanted to see him. He could use some company, and a familiar face wouldn’t hurt. His familiar face wouldn’t hurt. 

He shook off any remaining thought of self reflection as he reached the place he’d be staying for the night.

He pushed his way into the hotel, it was the same room number every time. Keith always arrived first. Room 024. 

He beelined down the hallway past the receptionist who regarded him with little interest. The establishment remained lit against the fading daylight by lamp housed firelight. 

He rapped his clawed fist against the mahogany door- waiting impatiently for a response. Sameal heard shuffling behind the door before it slowly creaked open- tentative black eyes met tired green ones.

Keith stared for a few seconds at the goat by his door, blinking a few times at him. “You look like shit.” The seal said finally, no hint of malice in his words- only a deadpanned lack of filter. 

Sameal rolled his eyes, putting on an exaggerated frown. “Charming as always,” though he knew of the truth behind his words- he'd hoped it wouldn’t be this patently obvious to him.

 “Are you gonna let me in? Or would you rather I just stand here.” His words seemed to snap Keith back to attention, ushering Sameal through. “Sorry- sorry.” He murmured, an embarrassed blush spreading across his face.

Sameal planted himself on the partially unmade bed with a creak, Keith following suit behind him. 

“Really, what happened?” Keith asked, tentatively bringing his hand up towards the goat’s face, using the edge of his hoodie sleeve to dab away a few drops of blood that trickled down Sameal’s forehead.

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling too well.” Sameal spoke in a tentatively nonchalant manner, lightly pushing away his hand. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt sleeve, averting his gaze from Keith. “It’s fine though- I’m fine.” Sameal fidgeted with his ponytail. Keith narrowed his eyes, seeming to take a moment to think.

“If- if you’re not feeling up to it tonight we don’t have to.” Keith spoke after a fraught moment of silence, averting his gaze as he felt his cheeks heat up. “We could just sit and- talk…” 

Sameal didn't speak for a few seconds, seeming to consider the offer. 

They hadn’t really ever just… talked. Hung out with no intention of doing more. It felt strange to even consider,

but at the same time, he didn’t mind the idea. He cracked a loose smile. “Yeah, I think I’d be alright with that…” 

Keith cleared his throat, nodding. He seemed entirely unsure of what to really do next- though admittedly it wasn’t as if Sameal knew any better. The seal shuffled closer to the center of the bed, patting the space next to him. The weight shifted on the bed as Sameal settled next to him, half-sitting half-laying propped on the pillows. 

Sameal rested his head on Keith’s shoulder, shuffling closer. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he enjoyed being near another person. It helped him sleep, served as an anchor for him. Keith wrapped an arm around his shoulders, silence temporarily breathing upon the pair.

Through the wooden walls of the hotel, faint snippets of the lives of the other occupants could be heard. Traveling as if the walls whispered the secrets of their tenants. 

The sun was setting, and for Sol Valley, that only ushered in a new kind of wakefulness. The Valley that never sleeps- not truly, awake and alive at all times as if the forest itself was sentient. The familiar distant chatter and cricket chirps were calming, they were home to Sameal. 

In another world- a world where he wasn’t a master of all havoc, maybe he could get used to this. It was… nice. Just nice.