Something Better

I'm Sick Of All My Judges

Brandon woke up with his head thumping and his mouth dry. He slowly sat up holding his head carefully, as if he was preventing a giant egg from cracking. He gently pulled his knees up and rested his fore head on his knee caps. He saw that he was lying on top of the bed covers, surrounded by an extra blanket. He had no memory of getting into bed.

"Ronnie," He thought gratefully, as he moved his head over to one side. He caught his breath when he saw Martha lying sleeping in the bed opposite his. She looked so peaceful and lovely, he smiled as he watched her. Brandon sat up on the bed and leaned a little closer to look at Martha's face. He noticed her long eyelashes sitting lightly on her freckled cheeks and he smirked when he saw the sprinkles of gold glitter on her cheekbones.

"Always with the gold," He whispered, shaking his head slightly. He stood up and quietly walked over to the bathroom. He got himself some painkillers and a long drink of water and then crept back into bed. He sighed as he slid his body under the cool duvet cover. He still felt a little dizzy and his stomach felt pickled by all the whiskey he had drank, but he felt content as he moved himself in order to get a clear view of sleeping Martha. He watched her breathe and thought about what had happened that night. He felt like a fool, allowing Sophie to get in the way of him and Martha. Every time they got close, something seems to pull them apart again. Maybe Ronnie's gods of fate were trying to tell them something. He knew he had been a total dick to Martha and treated her coldly. He felt a stab at his heart as he remembered Martha's face when he had looked at her with all the venom he had for Sophie and she had hid from him behind Mark at the bar. Martha was so good and seemed to care for him, but yet Sophie and her betrayal of him still had such power. Brandon knew Martha, who had been through so much, wouldn't stand being treated like that for long. Suddenly Brandon's memory of the end of the evening returned. He had seen Martha sitting at the bar with that lawyer guy from Vegas and he had started whining to Ronnie and the guys about it. That's when he nearly fell of the stool and Ronnie had helped him up to his room.

"Shit!" Brandon whispered aloud, as the realisation that Martha might be moving on hit him. He was crestfallen as he thought about how beautiful she looked and how the electricity sparked between them as she fixed his bow tie and how he put his hand on her back, as they entered the party, like she was already his girlfriend. How did she end up sleeping in his room? He started to calm down at the fact that she was in his room, not some flashy Vegas lawyer's arms. He settled into his pillow and observed Martha. Her rhythmical breathing helped lull him back to sleep.

Martha was disorientated for a few minutes as her eyes opened and she saw an unfamiliar ceiling above her. She looked around and then realised she was still in Brandon's room when she saw his sleeping body turned away from her in the opposite bed. She sat up and eased herself out of bed. She silently got her phone from her bag and checked the time, 7.30. Martha collected her shoes and bag and made her way out of the room, letting the door click quietly behind her. She felt relieved when she was in her own room, she wasn't sure how she would have explained to Brandon the reason she was in his room. She was glad he had been asleep and she had been able to leave unnoticed. Martha undressed and decided to take a shower. She wanted to wash off the whole experience of the previous night. She wanted to tell Brandon he had hurt her, by leading her on and then casting her aside, because his fucking ex girlfriend had made some bitchy comment. Martha was feeling angry about it all as she shampooed her hair a little too aggressively. But just as quick as the anger came, it was gone again, replaced with feelings of sadness that her and Brandon still hadn't made it past flirting.

Martha felt a little better as she got into clean pyjamas and towel dried her hair. She got into her own bed and put on the TV. She lay propped up against the pillows and let her mind become numb, as she watched the early morning breakfast news. Soon the numbness took over and turned to sleep.