It Wasn't That Way

Chapter 18

The moment they made it through the door of his apartment, Cake bolted to the restroom. He barely made it to the toilet before he was violently sick for an awful couple of minutes.

Eiw was a calming presence as Cake vomited up all of the food and drinks he'd consumed that night. He rubbed comforting circles into Cake's back and made gentle, sympathetic noises.

"Ughhh." Cake groaned miserably after he finished.

"What did you think was going to happen?" Eiw asked with exasperation.

He punctuated the back rub with a light smack and stood and left the bathroom.

Cake stayed in place, pathetically hugging the toilet.

He missed the warmth of Eiw's touch on his back and wanted to ask for it back, but his body was more focused on calming his churning stomach than forming words.

"You shouldn't've drank so much." Eiw admonished when he returned.

He brought a bottle of cold water - wet with condensation, and set it on the counter.

Cake didn't want to get scolded, he wanted comfort.

"Since when did you start drinking like this? Tomorrow you're going to read articles about the negative effects of alcohol until your eyes fall out." Eiw informed him.

He hauled Cake to his feet and kept watch as he washed out his mouth and scrubbed his face.

Cake looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced.

He looked terrible.

His face was sallow and his eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. His hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled and hung askew on his body.

What the fuck had he been thinking to drink like that?

He'd never felt so ill in his life. His head throbbed, and it felt like his skull was shrinking while his brain was expanding. He was shaky, and his mouth was dry even after he forced himself to chug all of the water that Eiw brought him.

He didn't need a lecture to never want to drink again, but he knew that he'd get one tomorrow anyway.

Cake dragged himself out of the bathroom and collapsed onto his bed.

The bed felt like quicksand, and Cake was mired. The room wouldn't stop spinning, and the room was nauseatingly dark. Thank goodness Eiw knew him well enough to switch the bedside lamp on.

Eiw grabbed his hand and tried to tug him back up.

"Cake, don't lay down." He said sharply, "Go take a shower so we can go to sleep."

It had taken all of Cake's muster just to be able to clean himself up; taking a shower right now was unfathomable.

Didn't Eiw care that he felt sick? Didn't he care that Cake had been losing his mind these past few weeks?

Oh right, Eiw didn't care about him anymore.

Cake wasn't special or important, and Eiw was probably just annoyed that he had to come and pick him up in the first place.

"Do you even care?" Cake meant to ask the question forcefully, but his headache reduced his voice to a whimper.

"Why do you keep asking that?" Eiw looked down at Cake with a frown.

With difficulty, Cake pulled himself to a sitting position, "Don't you care that I'm sick? Or am I not important enough for that? Do you even care about me at all?"

The happiness that Cake felt when Eiw came for him was fast fading. He couldn't let this go until he got an answer.

Eiw looked at him for a long moment, his face an unreadable mask.