Patient

19

Ryanne

My eyes open, obviously not because my conscience state wants to but because my sub conscience implored it. They are not really open, they are just tiny slits that let me see beyond my eye lids. And then, the first wave of nausea arrives. Oh no!

I raise from the bed on wobbly feet, briskly open the open door and the toilette seat and throw up all the contents in my stomach. Why did I ever think it was okay to drink so much without having dinner? I heave again and somehow a hand grips my hair, while another one softly caresses my back. I want to whip my head around and see who is this person, but I know who it is without having to prove it with my own eyes.

"Go away." I mumble before I dry heave once more. God damn, this is the second time in all my drinking time that I have ever thrown up, really, timing is just perfect.

"No way in hell am I leaving you like this."

Finally the vomit ceases and I recline on Kellan's chest. "What are you doing here?" I ask, my throat dry.

"I carried you to your room, you fell asleep on the rode back. I didn't want to leave you alone because this might would've happen...Wait here."

He stands not caring what my answer might've been. He returns with a Gatorade. "Pain killers?"

"Third cabinets from right to left in the kitchen."

He walks back to the kitchen and returns with two Tylenol pills. I down them both in a single swallow drinking as much gatorade as possible. When I feel like it's enough, I attempt to stand but fail as my legs feel like noodles. He helps me up and I ask him to help me hold myself upright as I brush the stench and vomit out of my mouth. Keeping me steady with his hands on my upper arms, my skin warms with his touch.

When I'm done, he goes with me to my bed and lays me down again, and it is until my hands are on my lap that I realize I am not wearing any pants.

"What the fuck happened to my pants?" I all hut screech.

He laughs, fucking laughs. Pointing at a chair in the far corner of my room where neatly my favorite seven jeans lay. My eyes widen and he raises his hands in innocence.

"Don't worry, I like my woman very much awake."

I blush, of course he would be a total gentleman about it. I chance a look at my bedside clock, it's 4:21 a.m. And with jut looking at the time I yawn.

"Come on, lay down. Sleep the alcohol off. I'll just go back to the couch."

"Wait..." Don't do it...you'll regret it. Dooon't. "Would you like to sleep here? I mean the bed's very big,I think it would be almost impossible to bump into each other. But, just in case sleep on top of the covers, that saves us both some awkward seconds."

He smirks but doesn't have to be told twice. Moving around the king sized bed, he jumps on top of the bed already in only his socks. What I don't expect is him taking off his shirt. Remember how my eyes were only slits, well now they are wide open and staring. Even in the dark j can make out that tantalizing V that disappears under his jeans that hug his hips in just the perfect way.

"You should really stop staring." He smirks.

I smirk right back. "Like you don't do the same." I throw at him before turning my back to him. I feel the bed dip as he fully lays down. His laugh permeating my ear drums and it's weird how my heart skips a couple of beats.

"Good night Ryanne."

"Good dawn Kellan."

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