A New Mistake

Chapter Seven

The strong pitter patter of rain sneaks in through the cracked windows, awakening me from my slumber. My body is nestled in a soft, fluffy, clean white blanket, that isn't mine. That isn't mine. Suddenly I am no longer cuddled in this strangers bed but sitting upright having to control my breathing. The room is small and neat, everything has a specific place and I guarantee if something was moved even slightly the owner would notice right away. There are multiple succulents fighting for a spot on the window sill. There are band posters spaced out intricately on the walls. A large multi colored rug covered the sleek wood floors. Where am I? What am I doing here? What happened last night? Owe. A dull pain floods my head and now I am realizing why I was knocked out so cold. There is a tall glass of ice water placed on the side table. The condensation surrounding the outside of the glass tells me it has been here a while. The digital alarm clock reads eleven forty-three in the morning. More questions and concerns quickly bounce around in my head adding on to the physical pain. My clothes, breath, and hair smell putrid. The pieces of hair that snuck out of my bun are crusted together. Don't tell me that's- it is. Disgusting. There is vomit in my hair. My eyes scan the room for my belongings. My purse is sitting atop the dresser. With hopes that my phone and anything else I had on me last night are inside, it seems best I snatch it and find a way out of this strangers fortress.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed and pushing off I managed to stand up and make my way over to the dresser. As soon as I had my bag in my hand my stomach took an immediate turn for the worse. As if I did not get it all out last night something is coming up, right now. Dropping my purse and covering my mouth I lunged to the bathroom which was luckily inside of the room I was already in. Right when my feet met the cold tile I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet. My empty, lifeless body hunched over and dry heaving. All this tensing up and releasing is amplifying my headache. My hair has completely fallen out of my bun and is now getting in the way of me dumping my insides. I try reaching out for toilet paper but my fingers shake and my arm won't extend. I hear the door swing open and footsteps approaching me. My face is hanging in the toilet when I feel the slight brush of fingers clearing my neck of hair. These fingers tie up my hair in a neat pony tail, securing any pieces from escaping again. These fingers begin to run along my back, putting me at ease. "Miah, it's okay, I'm here." He speaks, Will speaks. The confirmation of me waking up in Will's bed pushes my body to hurl one last time, and I do. The feeling of emptiness convinces me that I have lost ten pounds merely to puking. "Miah, you got it all. Try to calm down and breathe." He speaks again. I reach out for toilet paper again, which he grabs for me. "Here." I lift my head from the toilet and he gently wipes my mouth, not seeming to be grossed out by me at all. This happens slowly with maintained eye contact. His face is empty of emotion, not necessarily in a bad way, but not in a good way either. Almost as if he seems to be disappointed in me, but not surprised by it either. Both options hurt. "If you are done throwing up now, I will get you medicine. But if you feel like you are going to throw up again, then I can't give it to you." He says firmly. I stare at him wide eyed, confused, in pain, and not willing to move or respond. "Just stay here." He quickly hops off the floor and disappears back into the room, through the door, until he is too distant to hear.

I wait for Will patiently on the floor, now studying his bathroom. It's clean. Get up Miah. My hands grip the round toilet bowl and somehow my feet plant underneath me. I try to push up but my legs shake and I know I'm going to crumble. Just when I feel my legs give out Will re enters the bathroom. With a swift and gentle motion, he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me straight so that I may stand. "Miah, lets get you back to the bed." I nod, allowing him to guide me back to his bed. His long fingers feel familiar touching my stomach and I begin to relive some of last night. Will, touching me, and not just how he is now. I mean, under my bra fully gripping my breast. Suddenly there is a warm tingly feeling between my legs at the thought of feeling that again. "There ya go." He says placing me back in his bed. "Will." I manage to speak. He drops the blanket and stares back at me quickly, attentive to whatever it was I was going to say, which now I have lost in his eyes. He places a hand on my leg, stroking me gently. "Miah, you don't have to say anything. Here, take this, and go back to sleep." He hands me two tiny tablets to consume. "I'll wake you up with breakfast okay, are you allergic to any fruits?" He says standing now, releasing my leg. "No Will. I am not allergic to any fruits. Can I take a shower?" Why did that come out so much ruder than I thought it would? "Miah, you can barely stand." He eyes me up and down, concerned for my limp body. "A bath then?" I challenge. "You want to soak in your vomit covered hair?" He questions with a concerned tone. He's right, that is pretty gross. "Just, take that medicine and let me feed you, okay? Then I will help you shower." He says softly and exits the room. Help me shower? What? "Why am I here Will?" I cry out to an empty room. He steps back in the doorway and rests both arms on the frame above his head. "Because you needed help Miah. I was not going to leave you passed out in a bar with strangers." He eyes me, knowing every little thing that occurred last night while I do not. "You're a stranger." He lets his arms down and joins me on the bed. "So you just make out with strangers then?" He questions with a raised eyebrow. My flushed cheeks warm up. Crap. I don't know what to say now. He isn't wrong, but if I answer yes then I am admitting to making reckless, dumb decisions- which I thought I was finally done with. "Miah. Granted, you were pretty wasted, but I have never been kissed like that. You wanted me, and I wanted you. I don't want to be a stranger." He holds eye contact with me, then glares down at my lips. Part of me wants to lean in, and I can feel that he does too. Instead, he gets up and exits again. Leaving me alone in his room, in his bed.