INKED LINES // H.S.

Chapter 25

"Pain changes people, it makes them trust less, overthink more, and shut people out."

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Adilyn's POV

Mila leans forward, whimpering quietly before hurling the boozy contents of her stomach into the toilet. Vomiting again, then again.

I tug at her hair, pulling it back and removing the elastic before securing it around her hair more tightly. Her forehead is covered in sweat and her cheeks are red from the exertion.

"It's okay..." I soothe. "Let it out."

She coughs the last part out of her mouth, clenching her eyes closed. My hand rubs comfortingly down her back. The bathroom tiles are cold against the bare skin of my thighs, Harry's T-shirt doing little to cover them. Thankfully Mila is too distracted with emptying her stomach violently into the toilet to notice.

She leans her forehead against the toilet seat, exhausted after another bout of heaving.

"This fucking sucks," she whines, her voice sounding rough.

I hold back a chuckle. "I know."

Just when I think the vomiting has ceased she leans forward and starts again. The strong scent of vomit is filling the small bathroom, but it doesn't bother me. In my line of work, I'm no stranger to bodily fluids and all the different kinds of smells they bring.

I tuck my feet further under me positioning myself more comfortably next to her and resume the stroking action on her back.

After another couple of minutes, she leans back and rests herself up against the wall, shoulders slumping into the hard-tiled surface. Her brows are deeply furrowed and her lips look cracked and dry.

"Sorry for stealing you away from your man," she murmurs, barely any volume behind her voice.

"Don't be silly," I dismiss before adding, "and he's not my man."

She tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a gravelly whine.

She rests against the wall for another couple of minutes and I lean my back against the shower screen behind me. Her small pants fill the quiet of the bathroom.

"Do you want a drink?" I ask, unable to control myself I add, "Maybe some wine or something?"

Her lips tug upward slightly before she whispers, "Bitch."

I chuckle. Her eyes lazily drag open and squint at me from across the small space of the bathroom.

I watch them widen slightly as they flick down my body.

Oh crap.

"Are you wear--" She has to stop to clear her throat, "Is that his shirt?"

Even in her sick state she still somehow has the energy to offer me a smirk. Her nose twitches a few times.

"Um, yes," I say awkwardly. "Yes, it is."

I shake my head at her as she gives me a smug, "Hmmm," in response.

I'm about to give her a sassy remark back when a quiet knock at the door captures my attention. I turn my gaze from Mila's still smirking face to the opening door. Harry's head peeks through the small gap and a wide smile takes over my face as I take in his obvious hesitance to walk into the room. I stand quickly from the ground and walk over to meet him.

His body moves to take up the small space in the open door. I watch as his nose crinkles suddenly, as he takes in the scent of the room. My smile grows, finding the action amusing.