Cobra's Motto

gotta start somewhere

It was four in the morning. If he slept now, he would only get about 2 hours of sleep in.

He was willing to pull another all-nighter for tonight.

It was a bad habit, one that was slowly turning into his regular schedule.

Johnny just couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to for the past few months. He was always too busy letting his feelings get the best of him. It was a struggle, one he was sure no one but his dumbass had to deal with. Or at least he hoped so, less humanity was doomed.

He just couldn't stop thinking of Larusso. He couldn't stop thinking about how he'd treated him. How he couldn't have just left him alone. How cruel he'd been to him. All of it. He'd thought of it all. Over and over again, as he failed to fall asleep.

He knew he deserved it.

Losing his ability to fall asleep was better than getting beat up by some stupid bully.

A stupid bully, that's what he was. No other label suited him better. He had gone around beating a guy up for no reason.

He wished he would've been on the other side of things. To reverse time and either correct his wrongdoings, or get beat up by Daniel instead. He wished he could take it all back, but he couldn't.

He was an idiot.

...An idiot who still can't fucking sleep, he groaned, sitting up and glaring at his pillow as if it'd been the root of all his problems.

It was pathetic. Staying up this late, debating the same old things, again and again.

But he was a wreck. He felt ashamed of himself, and he regretted every single damn action he'd ever taken against Larusso.

And just that feeling rendered him sleepless because he knew he needed to do something about it. He needed to make amends, not sit here and whine about his stupidity.

What Larusso truly deserved was an apology.

He had to show him he was genuinely sorry, even when his sorry wasn't enough.

He'd practically indebted himself voluntarily by treating someone so horribly.

But he was going to try his best to make up for it. He swore he was. He had until the rest of the school year to try and do so. And he wouldn't waste it—he couldn't.

He had to get up and do something.

Has it been an hour yet?

An hour wasn't much of a time gap, but given it was a school night, it was bound to have a bad toll on his sleep.

He wasn't too sure what time it was, though he guessed it was the early hours of the morning, seeing as a ray of sunlight shone through his bedroom window.

It looked nice. He appreciated the view.

It helped calm him, whenever his other options weren't available. And it provided his otherwise dark room, a scarce source of light.

He couldn't stare at tonight's view for too long though, he reminded himself, reluctantly getting up.

...Maybe a bit too fast, he'd wryly remarked, as he felt a dizzying sensation attack his senses.

His vision swiftly became hazy for a mere second or two before he walked it off. He headed straight for the bathroom, not wanting to leave his house looking like a mess.

And after a few minutes of ensuring his appearance didn't resemble his wreck of a sleep schedule, he continued down the stairs of the empty house and into the kitchen, where the marble countertop made the glass he put down clink in contact. His gaze struggled to adjust to the pitch-black room.