Mr. Perfect (bxb)

Hangover Fighting

I wake up with the sun hitting me in the face. It is streaming in through my living room window that I forgot to close the blinds on last night. I fucking hate that window.

I stand up and look over at Matteo's sleeping body. He looks so carefree, so relaxed. More than I've seen in a while. I pat him on the back gently before I slowly stand up and walk over to the window. I shut the blinds and pick up my phone.

"Damn, only nine?" I had been asleep for about an hour and a half. I walked into my kitchen and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge. I sat on a stool at my counter and took a sip of water. My brain started to wander, and I started to think about last night.

After Matteo had thrown up, he took off his shirt because he got puke on it. I threw it in the washer for him, he was so drunk. He got mad when I told him I was worried about him. He went to bed around three, but he kept waking up every so often and would throw up. I, of course, would clean him up or get him a new blanket or some water. Whatever he needed.

I remember staring at him. My eyes drifting over him as he slept, not in a creepy way. I just tried to, like, see what was wrong with him, I guess? I was still going over the events of last night when I heard Matteo's voice. "Theo? Did you hear me?"

I blinked and shook my head. "No, sorry. What did you say?" He ran a hand through his hair and repeated his question. "I asked what time it was." My eyes trailed over his facial features for a second, "Like, nine-ish."

He sighed, "Do you have any advil? My head is pounding." I pointed towards the counter next to him. "Probably because you got shitfaced again." I mumbled and looked down at my phone.

"What?" He asked, "Nothing, Teo." I responded and started to scroll through TikTok. He sighed and took two advil. He set the bottle down and walked closer to me.

He walked up next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "You only call me, Teo, when you're upset with me." I looked up at him. "It's nothing, Matteo."

His face dropped to a serious and concerned one. "Theo, please. I'm too hung over to play games right now." I got an annoyed look on my face. "That's what I'm upset about, Dumbass."

He got a confused look on his face. "What are you talking about?" I ran a hand through my hair and looked away, "You're always getting so drunk, and it's gotten worse these past few months. You're drinking so much and you seem so stressed. I'm worried about you, you used to tell me everything. Now, when I try to bring it up, you get all pissed off."

He took his hand off of my shoulder, and I wished he hadn't. He ran a hand through his hair. "Theo, I'm fine. You don't need to worry." I looked back at him "But, I do. You're my best friend. You shouldn't be drinking so much, it's not healthy."

He got an annoyed expression, "I'm fine. I'm an adult. I don't need you telling me what's good for me, and I don't need you worrying about me."

I looked at him with wide eyes. I didn't say anything for a few minutes. Then the anger took over. "Well, obviously, you do. Who has taken you home and cleaned you up and taken care of you the last six fucking times you've gotten so drunk you couldn't stand? Me. Matteo, me. So don't fucking tell me that I don't need to worry, or that you can make your own fucking decisions because your own decisions are going to get you killed."

I could feel the tears starting to fall and I looked away from him. "I can't look at you right now. I'm so fucking angry. I'm going to shower and get dressed because I have lectures later." I quickly turned and disappeared into my room. I heard him call after me but I didn't care. I was so hurt by his words.

I threw my clothes to the ground and turned the shower to scolding hot. I jumped in and washed my body and hair through my tears. After a thirty minute shower I stepped out and walked towards my closet.

After some debating, I settled on a black and white striped long sleeve, overalls, and black combat boots. I opened my door and walked to the kitchen. I grabbed my phone and my keys and walked out the front door. Matteo tried to talk to me, but I was still pissed and didn't want to cry again.