I COULD procrastinate like it was no one's business. Like, if it were a job, I would be the next Bill Gates (or Ambani or Elon Musk or someone rich like that), hand's down. Fight me.

But I could only do it for so long because, unfortunately, I had a conscience. A looming one at that, one that always hovered by my shoulder, telling me to be the next Mother Teresa instead. 

Or, at least, to call my dear aunt and let her know I was still alive.

And I planned to do just that...but not yet (please read the first sentence of this chapter). I decided to call Aunt Cheryl after I'd finished putting up the plants that I had brought from home, the ones I had taken right before I'd quietly snuck out of the house that fateful night. 

But just my luck that while I was in the middle of starting to set everything up, Aunt Cheryl started to call. 

Finn was hanging out in the room, just playing a game or something on his phone. Before I'd left the room in a hurry, I'd asked him to take care of the plants for a second and water them, to which he agreed, and then I'd dashed out of there.

The outside of the hotel was pretty much like the inside: modest and homely. The lawn around it was trimmed perfectly, and different types of pretty flowers grew in the outdoor garden they had. 

Off to the side, I sat down on a moss-covered boulder. The twilight was casting a soft glow on everything around me, which comforted my nervous little soul as I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and answered Aunt Cheryl's call. 

"Cora? Is that you?" 

There was a mix of concern and relief evident in Aunt Cheryl's tone as her dramatic voice crackled through the small speaker of my phone before the static cleared. Oh, gosh. I missed her so much.

"Hey Aunt Cheryl," I began, my voice slightly shaking as I tried to sound casual. "I... I just wanted to let you know I'm fine. I'm alive. And I'm so sorry I left without telling you." 

There was a pause, and I braced myself for a scolding. I imagined Aunt Cheryl pacing back and forth, hand on her hip, ready to unleash the most worry-fueled lecture of the century. But instead, Aunt Cheryl sighed softly. "Oh, Cora. I'm just glad to hear your voice. It's okay. Really. I'm happy for you, and I mean it, honey. The risks you're taking, the adventures you're having...not everything has to be planned. Life isn't always like that." 

I blinked, completely taken aback. "Wait, so you're not mad?" I asked, half expecting Aunt Cheryl to suddenly burst out with a "Haha, gotcha!"

"Nope," Aunt Cheryl replied, sounding almost amused. "In fact, I'm proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone. Sometimes, my dear, the best moments in life are the unplanned ones. Just don't make it a habit of giving me a heart attack, okay?" 

I couldn't help but laugh, my shoulders relaxing as a grin spread across my face. "Okay, I promise I'll keep my adventure-Hyde side to a minimum. I just didn't want you to worry. I'm so used to planning everything out, and this...this was different. But seriously, thanks, Cherry. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"And I'm really glad you set that text to send. It helped knowing you had a plan, even if it was just a safety net," Aunt Cheryl added. 

I grinned, feeling the weight lift off my shoulders. "I thought it might save me from a lecture, at least a little."

"You got lucky this time, missy," Aunt Cheryl warned teasingly. "Now, have fun and rock on, Cora. I want you to enjoy every moment of this adventure, alright?" 

"I will. Thanks, Cherry. Love you," I said, my heart swelling with gratitude. 

"I love you too, Cora. Take care, try not to get eaten by a bear, and keep me posted!"

As the call ended, I felt a renewed sense of peace for the journey ahead. I stood up, ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing I had Aunt Cheryl's unwavering support (as well her permission to rock on!).

But maybe I'd thought that a bit too early because I could not embrace what was about to happen next. 

I walked (okay, maybe I happily skipped down the hallway as well) back inside the hotel and to my room. Inside the room, I noticed how the sun was fully starting to set, bleeding across the skies and casting a soft glow through the windows. 

I stopped in my tracks when I saw Finn standing by the two plants I'd asked him to look after. He looked...uneasy. The kind of uneasiness that usually came not after eating something they shouldn't have, no, but instead, before someone admitted they'd done something they shouldn't have. 

Finn caught sight of me and gave me a sheepish grin. "Hey, welcome back."

"Hi?" I crossed my arms, eyeing the plants and Finn with suspicion. "Oops, I forgot― you don't garden, do you?"

Finn winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I tried! But... I, um, might have messed something up...?"

I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing as I saw the drooping leaves on my wooly thyme and on the baby monstera plant. "Messed something up? Finn, they're practically on fricking life support!"

"I know, I know," he said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "But you asked me to take care of them, so obviously I couldn't just leave them like that."

I sighed. "Right, it's my fault. Because this is what happens when you try to do something you clearly don't know how to do. They were fine, Finn. You just needed to water them, not drown them."

"I didn't drown them," Finn frowned guiltily, grimacing. "I followed your instructions." He coughed, looking away. "Mostly."

"Mostly? Mostly?" I stared at him, appalled. "You either follow them or you don't. These plants can't survive on 'mostly', Finn."

He turned back to me, stepping closer. "I was trying to help, alright? I know I'm not Martha Stewart or someone, or Bryon, for that matter, but I did it because you asked me to. I was trying to do something for you, but apparently, I just can't win."

My heart pounded as our argument escalated, but my breath caught as Finn moved even closer. "It's not about winning, Finn," I managed. "It's about taking care of something I care about. Like, I know you don't care for gardening and all that, I really do, but this was important to me, and you―"

"And you're important to me," Finn interrupted, voice rough. "Which is why I tried. But clearly, Cora, I can't get it right." 

Our faces were inches apart now, and his proximity sent a jolt through me. I felt my anger mixing with something far more confusing, something that made my throat tighten and my heart race in a way I wasn't prepared for. His eyes were locked onto mine, dark and intense, and suddenly the room felt too small, too charged. 

I could feel the heat radiating off him, our argument still simmering between us, but now it was tangled with a tension that made my skin prickle. We were so close, too close, and suddenly the anger that had been fueling my words seemed to twist into something entirely... different. My breath hitched, and I saw the flicker of the same realization in Finn's dark eyes.

"Cora..." Finn's voice was lower now, still laced with anger, but softer, almost like a warning.

I could feel my resolve crumbling, the urge to keep fighting giving away to a need I didn't want to admit. My anger was still there, but it was no longer just anger― it was something hotter, something that made me realize that I didn't know what to do, didn't know whether to push him away or close the remaining inches between us.

I didn't know which would be worse. 

But I couldn't get another word in because just then, Renzo wandered into the room, now in pajamas and holding a tray of burritos. 

"Hey guys, did you hear how pigeons can recognize themselves in the mirr―Oh. What's going on here?" Renzo asked, looking from me to Finn and back. 

"Um, he's trying to murder my plants," I coughed, pointing an accusatory finger at Finn.

"And she's acting like I need a degree in botany just to splash some water on them." 

"Buddy, you practically drowned them," I muttered. "It's not like I can just give them mouth-to-mouth and rescue them back."

"I— You need help."

"No, my plants need help."

Finn raised his eyebrows. "But as you said, mouth-to-mouth isn't possible―"

"So how about I give you mouth-to-mouth―"

"What? "

"―to shut you up, of course."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Guys. Guys!" Renzo looked back and forth between us carefully, and then held up the tray of burritos like a peace offering. "How about we all just chill out and have a snack, huh? I made burritos."

Finn and I paused, glaring at each other. Then, almost simultaneously, our stomachs rumbled.

I bit my lip. "Fine. But I get the burrito with the most guacamole."

Finn crossed his arms, shrugging. "As long as I get the one with extra cheese."

We both reached for the tray of burritos Renzo was holding, ending up in a brief tug-of-war until Renzo yanked it back. 

"Okay, okay, one at a time," he said, exasperated. "Come on, let's eat before you start watering each other."

As we headed to the main living area, I muttered, "Remember, Finneas, no misting the burritos, 'kay?"

Finn gave me that signature sarcastic grin of his. "Yeah, yeah, don't over water your salsa, Miss A.B."

Renzo chuckled as the bickering continued, but at least it was over snacks now instead of the plants. Now that I think about it, forget about procrastination― maybe if pettiness was a job, I'd be the next Bill Gates or Ambani or Elon Musk. Sigh.

A/N: Short chapter! Because if 'getting the weirdest and randomest ideas while writing' was a job, I would be the next Bill Gates or Ambani or Elon Musk :) 

I'm sorry is 'randomest' even a word :(

Prolly not :)

P.S. As Renzo was saying, did you know pigeons can recognize themselves in the mirror? Such self-awareness. Who would'a thunk they'd be so philosophical?! 🐦‍⬛

P.P.S. That voting star looks prettier when it's glowing (¬ ₃ ͡¬)