Sugar

† ♱ ch 7

I close the door behind us and dive back into bed. He sits nervously on the edge, his voice is soft "Are you feeling okay?" I cover my eyes with my forearm and nod, "Just dizzy." 

"Okay well.. I bought you water, and nausea pills and I figured you like katsu don 'cause you ordered it the other day..." A smile forms across my lips "You're worried about me.." 

He takes a second to reply, "I've been there before, so, I know what to do." He moves next to me, helping me sit up and handing me the water with the pill before I eat. "Better?" I nod drunkenly with a mouthful of rice. 

I hold my wrist up to him, "Can you take my pulse? Like how fast." His fingers gently wrap around my wrist, his fingertips overlapping his knuckles. "Mhmm, it's fast.." I lay my head back onto the pillow before turning to face you with wide, glazed eyes. "Am I gonna die?" He can't help but laugh at my melodrama, "No, you're fine." I nod solemnly with my eyes closed, "Keep talking to me." 

"Yeah about what?" I shrug, "Teach me Swedish.." He thinks for a moment. "Okay, repeat after me. Jag vill ha dig" My cheeks flush and I turn away, crossing my arms, "Oh I am not  saying that to you Benjamin!" He chuckles, "Why not? It's a perfectly normal sentence!" I shake my head, "Nah you've chosen one of the very few things I can understand."

I rest my head in his lap, sighing, the TV hums, I quickly fall asleep. 

I wake up at sundown the next day, feeling like shite. I reach for my phone to find it's been put on charge.. next to a used makeup wipe. motherfucker did he take my makeup off while I was asleep? There's a text from him; 

Hey, hope you're feeling well, had to head to the studio srry. come by when you can 

After a few hours of rotting in bed I drag my sorry ass to the coffee machine, then the shower. I can't stop thinking about him, the way he lowers his voice to speak to me, how small my wrists looked in his hands.. and last night that was so caring, like, there's no way I'm imagining things at this point... Maybe I'll just come out and say it.. 

I get dressed into something a bit slutty, scoffing at myself in the mirror before I grab my folder and keys and head out. I push open the door, the studio is so thick with smoke that I can barely make out who's there. It's clear they've been here for a while; the coffee table is piled with trash and double cups and my skin pricks when I see powdered lines set on someones phone. 

Benjamin glances at me as I sit down beside him, his eyes are red and heavy. "Jesus Benjamin is this coke?" He shrugs, "Yeah, so? You want some?" 

"No! Fuck Ben! Have you guys written anything?" He brushes me off, hitting a joint and leaving it smoking between his fingertips. "Mhm, yeah. We've written some stuff, nothing concrete yet but this is just the process sometimes." 

I lower my voice"I thought you quit coke.." He leans forward to ash the joint before answering, "I know. I don't do it all the time." I scoff "That's the problem! Look it's late, how much longer til we start working?" He shrugs nonchalantly. "Ok then what is the point of me being here." I leave my folder on the floor and storm out. 

I sit on the hood of my car parked outside the studio and roll a cigarette. It's a few minutes before he follows me out, I glance at him, but say nothing. For a few moments he just stands with his eyes fixed on my face. "So what? You're just gonna sit out here all night pouting?"

"No..." I flick the ash cooly, "I just don't want to yell in front of your friends."