the coast is not clear
by WriteThroughTheNight
“My flight is early tomorrow,” Rozanov says. He bites his lip. Shane’s eyes stick there too. “You look in hallway, yes?”
Shane sticks his head out. The hallway is empty.
Would it hurt? To go another round? Rozanov has to fly out early anyway, it’s hardly like they’ll be spending time befriending each other. What is one night, when they’ve already crossed the line with eyes wide open?
“Shit,” he says. “There’s a couple at the end of the hallway, arguing, you know? You better wait until they leave.”
OR
Shane lies, that first night, to keep Rozanov to himself a little longer. The changes spiral out from there.















