He Depends on You || Porter Robinson

Part Fourteen

I woke up to a sharp pounding pain rattling my brain. I slowly opened my eyes and winced at the sunlight pouring through the hotel window. Grabbing the extra pillow, I flopped over facing away from the window and immediately the events of last night came flooding back. A big ball of dread formed in my stomach and I instantly felt humiliated.

I could not believe how I lost all control. I mean sure, the drugs and alcohol probably had a lot to do with it, but I was kicking myself for letting it go that far. Especially since I knew how Porter would feel. I knew he wasn't into me like that, and facing that head-on would crush me, and yet I pushed it last night. And him being a drunk and horny 18-year-old boy, he didn't stop me. I was mortified for breaking down into an emotional wreck all because Porter wouldn't have sex with me. Oh, I could just crawl into a hole and die.

I slowly brought my hand up to my face and brushed gently across my lips. Despite the crushing embarrassment, I couldn't help but feel warm at the memory of his lips and his skin on mine. The dread then took over my whole body. I felt like I had messed everything up with Porter. I just hoped, I prayed, that things could go back to the way they were before.

I couldn't believe how absolutely shitty I felt. I had never been hungover like this before. I was suddenly overcome by an intense thirst. I slowly propped myself up and lifted my body out of bed as quietly as possible. I looked over at Porter, he was sleeping on top of the covers still in just his boxers. I felt a tug at my heart.

Tearing my gaze away from the boy sleeping in the bed next to me, I made my way to the bathroom. I immediately turned on the bathroom sink and lowered my head to drink straight from the faucet. The water felt so good as it alleviated my dry mouth. I chugged as much as I could until it started to feel heavy in my stomach. Bad Idea.

"Oh fuck..." I whispered as my stomach started to twist and I knew I needed to get to the toilet fast. My stomach completely betrayed me, and I knew that there was no way my gagging didn't wake Porter up. Making me feel all the more embarrassed.

I quickly flushed the toilet and sat on the cool bathroom floor, pulling my knees into my chest and silently willing my body to stop aching. And beyond that, I wanted my heart to stop hurting. I sat there for a few moments, not having the energy or the motivation to stand up. Completely wallowing in my own self-pity. And that's when I heard the bathroom door creak open. I looked up and saw Porter slowly poke his head inside the bathroom. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all different directions. And judging by his bloodshot eyes and pale complexion, I knew he felt just as horrible as I did.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a raspy voice. I slowly nodded, afraid to make eye contact. I still didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know how to fix this painful distance and awkwardness that now filled the hotel room. Porter quietly made his way over to where I was, he slid his back down the wall and sat right next to me.

"Are we okay?" He pressed. He sounded nervous. I took a second to carefully consider my response.

"Of course, we are." I said, my voice cracking in the process. And although everything felt out of whack, I was willing to say or do anything that brought us back to where we were even just 24 hours earlier. Even if it was just a band-aid, I was scrambling to fix this quickly.

"It was just...the molly...I think it made me feel things that weren't actually real." I lied through my teeth. I felt Porter let out a sigh of relief next to me.

"Yeah," He chuckled softly, "me too."

I swallowed hard to get rid of the lump forming in my throat. This immediately made me feel even more queasy. I saw him glance at me from the corner of my eye. I knew I needed to provide extra reassurance that we were actually "okay." So, I met his gaze and smiled softly.