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Generally speaking, Paxton James was a difficult person on sheer principle alone. His day to day life was simply too boring for him to give people what they wanted straight out of the gate. He argued, bargained, and grinned when he made whoever was asking him for anything squirm and stutter over their uncomfortable irritation.
Remy King was the only exception to this rule. To be fair, she was the exception to pretty much any of Pax’s rules. She asked, he usually gave her what she wanted fairly easily. Even if that meant socializing. They’d been attached at the hip since the day they’d met, where she went he went, and vise versa. A creepy ass haunted house where a bunch of jerk offs had died was no different.
The process had been interesting from start to present. At first he’d thought Morgan had been playing an elaborate joke on them when it came to the actual application. He’d had psych evaluations less invasive than the questions a horror company had handed him. He assumed it was to make the experience more personal, apply to each individual's fears - hidden or otherwise - but he’d still lied through it all. His sheet had been filled out with his usual sarcasm and vague paranoia. No one needed to know him that well. Not even his best friend. He’d been a little surprised when the acceptance letter had come in, and mildly impressed with the authenticity of it.
Then came packing, which was always an adventure as Pax tried to figure out how to get his Triple X rated ass into one suitcase.Sex was a condition to taking him anywhere and he had a problem of overpacking to deal with that. Not that Remy minded, they got along just as well in the bedroom as they did anywhere else.
Then there was a quick plane right - Remy hated planes, Pax didn’t mind them, but it was also a very small space for his nonexistent attention span. He’d probably driven her annoyance level up to murder more than once, but on the upside it’d likely kept her from realizing they were in the air. Job well done, if he did say so himself.
Then there had been a bus, which was better if only because there was scenery to watch. Remy had lost her patience then though, and ended up with her head in his lap, feet in the aisle. That had earned them a few looks, but as a pair their Don’t Fuck With Me vibe was so strong no one had dared to say a word. He took her earbud gratefully when she gave it, then hooked his fingers just under the waistband of her pants when he rested his hand against her stomach.
"I give it...30 minutes before you and I are sneaking off to a supply closet to make better use of our time than losing brain cells listening to psycho barbie speak."
He snorted out a laugh, but had a feeling she was probably right. Pax honestly didn’t have a problem with Paige Hanley himself...she wasn’t his kind of person, but his hatred of her came solely from taking Remy’s side on...well, everything. “I’ll probably cave around fifteen, let’s be real.”
When the bus stopped Pax just found himself shaking his head at Remy’s groaning. He was pretty sure ‘hell’ was actually the feeling the place was striving for, but so far he wasn’t getting it. In fact, if he was the kind of person who cared, he’d likely label it as ‘pretty’. There was snow on the ground, perfectly placed greenery, the usual shit.
It was kind of a goddamn let down.
He let Remy tug him along, only occasionally dragging his feet because he enjoyed the annoyed line of her shoulders. She was too focused to look back at him though, and he understood why. Morgan was alone, which meant Remy's only other friend in the world was conspicuously absent.
He didn't blink twice at his own life being offered up, just dropped his chin comfortably on Remy's head and smiled at Morgan. He liked her, much more than he liked her brother. She was annoying as fuck, but entertaining. "Mom probably got distracted coddling puppies on the side of the road or something. Lord knows he wouldn't let Mor trek all the way up here on her lonesome. What irresponsibility! It'd probably make him sick."