Sunlight shines through open curtains as I come to, still in his room. I notice my head hurts. Just a little bit. I don't get hangovers usually, but last night was unusual.
In his room.
I sit up quickly. I've never slept in his room before. I've never seen it actually. Not the one here, at his parent's house. Not the one at his place either. I don't know where he lives. We're usually in my dorm when we meet. Last night was beyond unusual. I rub my head, trying to process. My clothes are different. I'm wearing his shirt instead of the dress I had on. It smells like him. Intoxicating. His dark blankets are covering me too. The smell of him is everywhere. My eyes flit across the room, taking in the rest of my surroundings.
It looks like it's missing something, lacking. Like his personality. At least the one he shows me. More dark colors surround me in shades of black and grey, from the curtains, to the glossy floors. Remnants of his past still remain in the room. Posters of women in bikinis, model cars, an old guitar. It reminds me that he was just a boy once. A normal boy, just like any other from the looks of it.
I notice something on the dresser next to the bed. A note. A water bottle. Some Advil. I take the medication first to reorient myself. Grabbing the note next, I squint as I read. I don't need glasses. It's just a focus thing probably.
I saved you from embarrassing yourself. You can thank me later.
What an absolute dick.
My mood immediately sours. Thank him for what? Ruining my night? Ruining me? When he blew out his candles, perhaps he wished for my suffering to prevail.
I get up to search for my clothes. Nothing. The room is practically spotless, so I look in his closet, his dressers, anything that can contain something else, and I come up empty. My search shows me some other things though. Like his drawer full of drawings. I pick up a detailed sketch of a woman. It's the back of her, and she sits on the ground, shirtless. In her back are arrows, the injuries causing blood to pool beneath her. I briefly wonder what the art means as I store a new piece of information about him. He likes to draw. I never knew that. He seems pretty good at it too. I don't know if he's kept up the hobby recently. But it's all so...interesting. Despite my curiosity, I stop being nosy. The paranoia in me is telling me he'll know. It might irk him if he did. He doesn't want me knowing him.
Since I can't find my clothes, I take the water bottle and head to Nora's room down the hall. I've been here enough to know where it was blindfolded. I knock first just in case her girlfriend's still around. The door opening reveals to me that she is. Great. Now I get to listen to them both chew me out.
They waste no time doing so as I walk into the room, sitting on the chair in front of Nora's vanity. I put my feet on the desk, lean back in the chair. My mind goes as blank as the white ceiling I stare at to drown them out. Nora notices what I'm doing pretty quickly, and doesn't like that, as expected. She comes to lean on the vanity, and stares at me. I see her in my peripheral and meet her gaze fully.
"Where were you? I came down and couldn't find you anywhere," she grills with a stern look on her face.
I roll my eyes. They're being entirely too dramatic. I was in her house, what could go wrong?
Her girlfriend chimes in.
"Seriously June. You just disappeared, we were worried sick. You didn't even answer your phone." My phone?
I realize now that I have no idea where my phone is. I hand even thought to check for it. Was it in the pantry, maybe? That could be where I last had it.
I let out a heavy breath.
"Your brother cockblocked me and proceeded to lock me in his room. I don't know what happened after, I fell asleep," I say with clear irritation.
