The pounding came again from the door, hammering on the inside of my skull in a most unplesant way. I wanted to hide beneath the covers for as long as possible, which at this rate was 2 more minutes; or less.
“If you don’t open this door,” the muffled snarl came, “I’m going to contact hotel security and tell them you are hurting yourself and to let me in.”
“If you do, I’ll never talk to you again!”
“Does that mean no more sex?”
The joke slipped out of him before he could catch it I’m sure. In another situation, or on another day, I would have laughed. Today I threw a pillow at the door, and it made a very unimpressive thump as it hit.
“Open the door Jen.”
I climbed out of bed and sulked over to the door, pulling it open with resentment. Green eyes full of concern met mine, the anxiety making his crowfeet stand out a bit more then normal. I looked down, stepped aside and let him into the room. Closing the door behind him, I picked up my thrown pillow and shuffled back to my bed.