wonderwall || punznap

eyesore

And I guess that I'm a bit anxious, like constantly

And I guess that I'm a bit manic, like honestly

I play pretend like every day

I lost my friends in every way

eyesore - glaive

Nick opened his eyes and stared at the high attic ceiling, recognizing without surprise in it the wooden ceilings of the Brown family summer house in which they stayed yesterday. He would have been much more surprised to see the rusted roof of the trailer above him in the place, which he was forced to call his home. Over the past couple of years, he had gotten used to waking up in unfamiliar apartments and seeing unfamiliar surroundings became the norm for him, although it should not have become it at all.

Slowly rebuilding the picture of past events, he remembered how he and Luke burst into this room, laughing, leaving a few people in the dark living room. He recalled with a shudder the drunken revelations of yesterday, hoping that Luke would forget about their half-asleep conversation, at least about its main topic.

The brunet tried to swallow, but in his mouth, of course, the Sahara desert reigned. He touched his forehead and lifted the edge of the blanket, noting that yesterday he even took off his outer clothing. Remembering that he and the blond took turns taking an icy shower, because the water heaters ran out of water after the first people, he was convinced that it was not the blond who took it off him and breathed a sigh of relief.

Feeling a bit sorry for himself and, finally, overpowering the pain, Nick turned on his side and began to look at the lumps of things scattered in disorder on the black air mattress.

And then his gaze settled on a familiar blond head.

He stared at it for another two minutes before he forced himself to sit up. With difficulty moving around the room, the guy found a place where he folded his clothes, trying to do everything slowly and avoiding sudden, headache-inducing movements.

Whatever it was... everything they saw meant that they would leave the house together. Nick doubted that Noah would have abandoned his summer home for the two of them, escaping in a taxi as soon as the others had left, and from the almost ringing silence in the house it was clear that everyone else had left earlier. He was supposed to be downstairs, and Nick promised himself that he would come down, but only after he cleaned himself up, assessing the damage to his appearance in the mirror.

And, of course, there was something to be afraid of. Nick reminded himself of a low-budget horror movie dead man who, by sheer luck, came back from the dead. His face looked tired, his eyes reddened, there were bags under them, as if the guy had not slept for a whole month. There were pillow marks on his cheek and neck, and his hair was tangled so that it looked like sun-dried straw.

He washed and tried to comb his hair, but quickly waved his hand at this useless task, smoothing the chestnut swirls with a damp palm.

Going downstairs, the guy first looked into the living room and found Noah, looking thoughtful, sitting on a worn and old chocolate leather sofa and talking to someone on the phone. He resisted the temptation to say, "Good morning," but decided not to bother him for a while. It was too cold in the house, and he wanted to go back and wrap himself in a blanket to warm up again and feel like everything was finally right and... Nick stopped in his thoughts, shook his head and again went up the stairs. Everything around was still frighteningly quiet, even ominous.

Returning back, he saw Luke sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a thin blanket, he rested his elbows on his knees and contemplated the floor with a blank, unseeing look. It was safe to tell from his face that last night had left an imprint.