Kane snatched the key, eager to escape the clerk's too-knowing gaze.
They trudged down the hallway, their footsteps leaving wet prints on the worn carpet.
"Room twelve," Kane muttered, sliding the key into the lock. The door swung open with a creak.
The room was small but surprisingly clean. Beige walls, faded floral curtains, and a single queen bed dominated the space.
A simple desk sat beneath a mirror, and a narrow wardrobe stood in the corner.
Kane didn't know what he expected. Maybe something haunted, or at least weirder.
Cyrus surveyed the room with a grimace. No couch, no chairs comfortable enough for sleeping—just the bed.
"I'll sleep on the floor," muttered Cyrus.
"Don't be ridiculous," Kane said, dropping their bag. "We're both adults. We can share a bed for one night."
Before Cyrus could protest, Kane bounded across the room and launched himself onto the right side of the mattress.
