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『 signature slushie 』
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THE EMPTY FEELING didn't leave Delores's body.
She felt nauseous and tried her best to focus on her breathing as she and Ash stood in line. Ash kept sending her concerned looks, and she just shook her head at him.
Delores then looked up at the neon lights that lined the ceilings of the theater, "I'm going to the bathroom." she said and didn't give Ash time to respond, as she darted away.
She avoided looking at the two men who made her feel sick, as darted past the two lines. Delores made her way to the bathroom, taking deep breaths with her steps.
Her head ached, and she ran a stressful hand over her face— not caring about her makeup. Delores pushed open the door to the bathroom and immediately went into one of the stalls.
Delores locked the stall door behind her, and let out a sigh of relief, trying to collect herself, as nausea swarmed her stomach and throat.
If this déjà vu thing hadn't been going on for years, she would've assumed she was pregnant— which wasn't even possible.
Delores tied her hair back and collapsed in front of the toilet before vomiting into the porcelain bowl. Gagging noises echoed through the empty bathroom, as she spewed up her breakfast, lunch— and the coffee she had.
She let out a sigh, the acid taste lingered in her mouth, as her panting began to slow. She squeezed her eyes shut at the dizziness she felt.
Stop!
She internally shouted at herself.
Delores squeezed her eyes shut tighter— randomly— the smell of coffee invading her senses. The feel of wallpaper beneath her fingertips buzzed at her fingertips that were just laid in her lap.
The number five began to flash rapidly on her eyelids, and she opened her eyes immediately.
She felt sick again.
One more time, Delores leaned over and heaved into the toilet once more— her glittered tights, now snagged slightly at the knees.
She was too busy throwing up to hear someone else enter the bathroom.
Delores sat up, and pulled her hair from the low ponytail, as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She got up from the ground— not even wanting to think about how nasty the flop was.
