βββββββΒ πΊπππ πΎππππ πππ πππππππ πππππππ and over to his car, Rosalie finally stopped giving him a hard time about being on schedule, falling silent to allow Salem to smoke his cigarette in the quiet hours of what remained of the morning. It would likely be the only sliver of peace that he would get for the rest of the day, as the evening would be spent sandwiched between the witch and the woman that heβd cursed. So far, she didnβt seem too bad, but it wasnβt as though heβd gotten the chance to speak with her much to really build much of an opinion. Sheβd clearly been too scared to utter more than a few stammered questions in his direction, and he hadnβt done anything to pry anything else from her. He still didnβt even know her name.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Salem had just been finishing up the last of his cigarette when his captive had come strolling out from the motel room, his gaze shifting over to meet her bright blues. He was glad that she hadnβt made him come in after her, and even more glad that she hadnβt tried to run away. Despite knowing very little about her, heβd at least been able to give her a point for not being stupid enough to try that.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Dropping his cigarette and grinding it into the pavement with a few twists of his boot, Salem nodded and climbed into the vehicle.Β β Do you drink coffee? β He asked her once sheβd taken up occupancy of the passenger seat next to him. It wasnβt as though he couldnβt do without it, but if given the option, he would always start his days off with coffee and a cigarette. It was the little things, really, especially in a miserable life like his.
Β Β Β Β Β Β If the woman had wanted one, Salem would have obliged on the way through the nearest drive-thru, offering her something to eat as well. For himself, heβd only ordered a coffee; three cream, three sugar. From there, it was a straight shot to the airport, but he wouldnβt allow her to leave the vehicle until heβd set some very strict guidelines for her to follow.
Β Β Β Β Β Β After the car had been parked, Salem turned to look at her.Β β Alright, so this is the plan. See that carrier back there? β He gestured with a tattooed thumb to the small pet crate in the back seat.Β β Iβm going to get in there and youβre going to board the plane with me. The information is on the tickets; theyβre in the glove box, along with your fake passport. You shouldnβt be surprised by now about the shit that I can do, but I guess Iβll still prepare you in advance by telling you that Iβll be turning myself into a cat. β He paused, but only for a moment.Β β If you look at somebody funny, you die. If you try to ask somebody for help, you die. If you try to run, you die. If you do anything that will even remotely throw a wrench in my plans, you die. That clear? βΒ
Β Β A breath and despite everything inside of her, she had listened to her captor. That was thing, wasn't it? Fear had made a person do things. It made them stay or it made them cower for their life, crying uncontrollably and to the point of wanting to do something stupid. She had seen the movies, of course, and the way people would run away only to make things worse for themselves. She already knew she was probably going to die at the end of this but that didn't mean she had to make stupid moves to hurry that up. Maybe Salem truly did mean what he said but she had nothing trust him off of. Nothing proved that his word was absolute and that she'd get to go home with a story to tell her friends.
Β Β There's a raise of an eyebrow at his question of coffee and she simply nods at the thought. She hadn't realized how hungry she actually was until her stomach started to growl in an angry protest over having barely ate the last few days, too busy and set on getting that car back at the shop finished on time. Ah, what a thought that felt light years away now. Another breath and she starts to fidget with the jeans she had put on that morning, pulling a little at the denim fabric that clung to her legs as any form of a distraction than the panic that had settled itself in the back of her throat. The only other time she had spoke was when they stopped in the drive thru, asking for a coffee, black, one cream, and a breakfast sandwich to cause her stomach to shut the fuck up.
Β Β There's a small sigh of relief when they stop at the airport. The idea of being surrounded by perfect strangers was almost intoxicating in a sense. He wouldn't try anything to harm her with a shit ton of witnesses, would he? But at his words, she feels the panic grow a little bit more intense and her confusion only becoming coupled with such. "A-A cat?" It's all she can manage for a few minutes, her mind trying to process it. "I get it though. I won't do anything stupid. This ride will be easy." She nods, trying her best to sound confident as she reaches forward to open the glove box and retrieve the tickets and passport from inside. "Um, do you want me to look away while you transform?" She feels awkward, scared and nervous. She has to sell this the best she can, walking through security when it's time. How good of an actor can you be, Rylan? Better hope it's sellable.