ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ [eddie munson]

ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ

Lorraine could hear muffled voices, shoes shuffling across the floor. She didn't open her eyes, not just yet, feeling the splitting headache grind against her jaw and the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, no worries," She heard a voice calmly said, "I'll probably have something by next week, before school starts."

She was confused, only for a moment, thinking about where she could be or even when. Taking a deep breath, she smelt cigarettes and fresh brewed coffee. There was a hint of humidity, mixed in with the smell of a familiar shampoo. She smiled softly to herself. Without opening her eyes she continued to listen to the conversation that was still ongoing.

"Cool, cool," Eddie's voice said, raspier than ever. His morning voice seemed soft and warm, to her ears it felt like someone wrapped a thick blanket over her, soft like clouds. "I'll give you a visit later." As he finished the sentence, he closed the door behind the visitor, softly, trying to not wake Lorraine.

"Morning..." She groggily whispered, stretching her arms out in front of her, giving a soft yawn. She dropped her arms on top of herself. "Sorry about last night, I didn't realize how drunk I was" she laughed, sitting up on the couch.

Eddie's face was stern. His damp hair clinging to the sides of his face, some drops of water running down his neck and shoulders. Lorraine didn't understand his expression, but continued to chat nonchalantly.

"Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, undoing the mostly undone ponytail. Shaking out her hair and pushing it behind her ears.

The boy continued to give a silent treatment, as he walked over the table near the couch. He sat in the armchair casted off to the side. In his hands was a metal lunch box, wide open, where a hint of a familiar scent rose from. Lorraine tried to peak over to see what it was, the corners of her mouth reaching downwards as her eyebrows raised.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," she chuckled, still nervous as to why he wasn't looking at her, why he wouldn't say anything.

"You are." He said coldly, his jaw clenching, the muscle flexing around his cheek. He organized a few plastic bags that were in the box, before throwing a sharp look at her. "I don't do this shit."

Taken aback from the way he was speaking, Lorraine hid her hands beneath the quilt that laid over her legs. "Oh, uhm," she stammered, wanting to break away from the stare but frozen.

"What they hell did you do yesterday?" Eddie manically asked, his voice pitching higher than normal. He closed the box harshly, leaning back into the armchair.

"I..." Lorraine tried to look for the words, but couldn't find them. "I just had something to drink, a joint or two.." Her eyes darting from the stern look of Eddie's face, to the kitchen, to the table, and back again.

"I don't believe you," he sighed, unclenching his jaw now. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

"You sell it, don't you?" Lorraine changed the subject, or tried to. "Why are you judging me?"

"No, you have no right. I may sell shit to people, but it doesn't mean I actually do drugs."he scoffed, flustered. "Just because I smoke grass..." He said, offended by her statement, not moving an inch but opening his eyes to look at her from his spot. "Whatever you took yesterday fucked you up, you were saying the wierdest shit." He whispered. "It's not real, you said."

Lorraine scratched the back of her head, not quite remembering what had happened that night. She chuckled, nervously. "It's not like I do it a lot, okay." She took two fingers to her nose, pressing on her nostrils, wiggling it around as her nose felt itchy from the day before.