Disarm / Rafe Cameron

05. Crawl Home To Him

Crawl Home To Him
chapter v
warnings: slight sexual content,
drug use

          HER MOUTH TASTED AS THOUGH IT WERE FILL WITH COTTON, and Layne felt like her head was heavy with sawdust. She was in a bed, although it wasn't her own—she could tell by the way they smelt. Almost of some sort of artificial fruit, like the medicine you would take as a child, that they'd shoot down your throat with a syringe. Layne couldn't think of the name, in fact, she couldn't think at all. Her limbs were heavy and she tried to move them beneath the duvet but it was like her sweat was sticking her to her sheets.

"You awake?" a voice echoed from beside her, and Layne had to rub her eyes multiple times before she could get them open. It was dark in the room, but she couldn't tell if it was from the closed blinds or because it was nighttime. She prayed and hoped it wasn't nighttime. "Ah shit, you are awake," the voice spoke again, and Layne took a minute before she could decipher who it was. Marian. Fuck, she felt like shit. How did she even get here? Where was Rafe?

"Where's Rafe?" she croaked, swallowing the spit that suddenly congregated in her mouth. There was a heavy sigh as she flipped onto her side, and Marian pinched the bridge of her nose as if she had to quell a headache. "Uh—he left. A while ago. You've been passed out for like, seven hours," she muttered, as if she were eating something. Layne's eyes were closed, but she shot them open in an instant. "Holy fuck, seven hours? You're shitting me," she instantly went to grab her phone. There were about ten missed calls from her mother, and a text from Rafe.

Hey sorry to ditch u didn't know what 2 do. give me a call when u wake up

Layne flinched at the brightness level on her phone and turned it down. Marian was still sitting next to her, so incredibly still and quiet that Layne thought that there might be something chronically wrong with her. She smelled faintly of weed and cheap Bath & Body Works body spray that reeked of artificial flowers and the underlay of her laundry detergent. Layne scrunched up her nose, tossing her hair to one side and trying to fling the duvet off of her half naked body. Why was she half naked?

"You were sweating pretty bad. So I changed you. You're welcome," Marian seemed annoyed, and Layne couldn't really blame her. She had moved from her place beside her on the bed to stand up. Layne couldn't bring herself to lift her bed off of the pillow. "Fuck . . . fuck my parents are going to fucking kill me. I can't go home," it was dark out, and despite that, Marian had her curtains closed, as if she was hiding. Layne wondered why Rafe didn't stay with her until she woke up, but it didn't take long for her to realize who Rafe was. Trying to move her legs felt like she was wading through water, and she had the urge to vomit. Marian's garbage can was next to her bed, near her vanity. Layne lunged for it and threw up into a bunch of empty Plan B containers and empty tampon wrappers. Her hair had already been tied back into a ponytail, but some strands of hair snuck into her mouth.

"Did Rafe leave anything here?" she asked, out of breath, and wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand. She checked her phone again—it was at five percent. Her fingers shook and she sat on the ground, hugging Marian's garbage can. She still hadn't really said a word to her. Layne could sense the disappointment, and she felt guilty for wondering if there was any coke left for her—as if Rafe would leave her any without her having to ask. He was selfish and kept everything for himself. He would even make her pay for it, if he could. He had tried to do it before. Marian stared at her with a glare that made Layne feel overwhelmingly scrutinized. She had taken a breath that looked shaky, almost as though she was holding her breath for a while, and as though she was holding her inhale until her face went pale. Layne wiped sweat off her head with the back of her hand. Her phone was at five percent when she looked at it.