Yeah, I Hate You Too, Sweetheart.

Chapter 6 (part 2) - Justin

 Justin 

    I could already tell that this day was going to be God-awful because I woke up with a massive headache the next morning. What I really wanted to do instead of dragging myself out of bed was just to go back to sleep and not wake up for the next millennia. But alas, that wasn’t particularly possible.

  Heaving a sigh, I rolled out of bed and dragged myself out of the room. While it was true that I had way more unanswered questions that I would’ve liked to admit, I wanted to get rid of my headache – not let it have its way with me.

  The sun was just barely peeking up over the mountains off in the distance as I quietly made my way down the stairs. The house was deathly silent as I padded my way across the foyer, and I took extra care not to be too loud. The less people that woke up and saw me looking like crap, the better. That’s normally why I never got out of bed until after noon.

  I swear I almost stopped breathing when I saw the lights were already on in the kitchen as I stepped down the stairs. Much to my surprise, when I made it down to the kitchen I saw Laila was slumped over at the bar, her fingers wrapped around a mug of tea. I thought she might’ve been awake, but when she gave a little sniffle, I figured she must’ve been asleep. Judging by the frazzled state her normally smooth hair was in and that she was wearing the same Bob Marley t-shirt from yesterday, she’d had one hell of a night, too.

  Internally cussing myself out for feeling so ridiculous, I reached out and prodded Laila in the cheek with a finger.

 “Hey. Wake up,” I muttered, poking her again.

  “Shut up, mom,” she sighed, burying her face in her arms more.

  “Laila,” I repeated, rolling my eyes. “Wake up.”

  Laila bolted up with a jerk and stared blearily around through half-lidded eyes.

 “Oh… hey,” she mumbled, looking sort of sheepish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I… came down here for some tea.”

  I frowned a little, peering down into the tea cup on the counter beside us.

“You let it steep for too long,” I told her, fighting back a smirk.

  Laila scowled and took a careful sip from her tea mug, then made a sour face, gagging a little.

I shook my head, holding back a laugh, and turned to the cupboards, rummaging around until I found the Tylenol. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Laila fidgeting with the end of her ratty shirt as I popped two of the Tylenol into my mouth.

  “Why do you do that?” I blurted, setting down my half empty glass of water.

 She glanced up with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you always fidget?” I asked her honestly.