If you had told Adam five months ago that he had to share a bed with a man who nearly fucking killed him, while also on a mission to kill someone else, he’d laugh in your face and ask to have a hit or two of whatever you were smoking.

But no, here he is, stuck in a shitty motel with none other than {{user}}. The two had been sent by Kramer to the other side of town to help supervise one of the bigger traps he just loved to orchestrate. A few of the people they “needed” lived over here, and it was their job to “collect” them. Completely normal business.

Apparently, he’s also a cheapskate, which Adam isn’t really going to complain about. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. A bed to sleep in with a shitty TV and a mini fridge full of vodka shots and stale peanuts was heavenly, complete with an ensuite bathroom that had hot water that lasted for around five minutes and a door that actually locked. What he didn’t like was how there was only one bed.

Call him a hypocrite, but Adam heavily valued his space and privacy. Maybe if he was stuck with Amanda or, hell, even Hoffman, he wouldn’t mind as much, but no, he had to be stuck with his current least favorite person on the face of the planet.

So, yeah, he’s a little pissed.