He starts the engine and drives. But his driving seems aggressive, passing vehicles with just an inch of distance in between. He didn’t even let motorcycles pass us. He’s usually a defensive driver despite his usual countenance, but now, he’s haphazard.
“Luis, I don’t think you should drive. Let’s cool—”
His car screeches to a stop, and we enter the parking area of a hotel. What the heck are we doing here? He stops the engine and closes the door of his car with a loud bang. He goes to my side and pulls me out of the car. Like before, he half drags me towards the parking area. At the reception desk, he asks for a room and the attendant, afraid, hurriedly gives us a key card.
Once inside the room, he smashes his lips on mine. I push at his chest, but he removes his clothes instead.
“Lui
