Hex

Chapter 21

I woke up the next morning to Valeria and Finn bursting through the door. Finn immediately went over and yanked the curtains open, letting December sunlight flood the room. "Morning boys!" Valeria yelled, jumping onto her knees on the bed beside Zane. His body bounced a little, and he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Fuck," he muttered, grabbing the water bottle I left by his feet and chugging it.

"How you feeling, big guy?" Valeria asked, messing with his hair.

"Not good," he said, before getting up and going back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Good morning guys," I said, yawning. Bishop still hadn't stirred in my lap. There was a nice circle of drool next to his mouth.

"Ugh, is he dead?" Finn groaned, like it was going to be annoying to deal with his dead body.

I laid my fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse. "He's good," I concluded, after a couple of moments.

"I'm alive, though I sort of wish I wasn't," he grumbled, still not opening his eyes.

"Aw, poor baby," I said, laughing at his pain only a little.

"But hey, you won, I heard!" Valeria said, trying and failing to cheer him up.

"He certainly did drink a lot, huh buddy? Which was your favorite? Was it the whiskey sour?" Bishop turned a shade greener. "The strawberry margarita?" He sat up, pressing his fist into his mouth. "Oh, you know what, I think it was the Moscow mule!" Bishop gagged a little, and I shoved the trash can underneath him in a bit of a panic

"Shut up, Finn," Bishop forced out, in the most aggressive voice I'd ever heard him use.

"Yeah, I guess that's enough, Finn," Valeria said, laughing, as the two left the room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind them.

Bishop leaned his head back against the bed frame and closed his eyes again. As I stared at him, what he said last night came flooding back into the forefront of my brain, and I smiled a little.

"Thank you for taking care of me last night. I threw up, didn't I?" He asked, placing one hand on my thigh and absentmindedly rubbing up and down.

"Yes, you definitely did. It all made it into the trash can, though, so it's fine."

He grimaced. "Sorry you had to see me like that."

"It's okay, I've thrown up in your lap, now you've thrown up in mine. We're even."

"Did I, uh, do anything else embarrassing?"

I tried to keep a poker face, but I think my blush betrayed me. I looked at the comforter, but I felt his eyes lock on me.

"Oh god, that's a yes isn't it?" He groaned, clapping a hand over his eyes.

"No, no, you were just sweet," I said, hoping more than anything that he meant what he said. "Why don't you hop in the shower, and I'll make you some food?"

"One, I'm always sweet. And two, that's probably a good idea, I'm sweating all sorts of liquors right now."

I wrinkled my nose up. It did sort of smell like a monkey cage in his room. "What sounds okay right now?" I asked.

He sat up and rubbed his face, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Fuck, like nothing really." He sighed heavily, scouring his brain for a food item that the thought of didn't immediately bring bile into his throat. "I don't know, maybe I could eat a grilled cheese."