'Moonlight'

17

I check the clock for the millionth time in the last hour.

It still reads 11:47pm.

Just like it did 30 seconds ago when i last checked it.

It's been over 4 hours since the show ended.

The more i check the time, the more anxious im getting.

What if Stevie actually doesn't come back?

Her stuff is still here, i remind myself, so she would need to come back at least briefly to get it.

I'm about to check the time again when the door opens slowly.

I jump up from the bed, preparing for an angry Stevie Nicks awaiting me, but instead it's a very miserable looking Christine McVie.

Immediately, i feel sick with worry. What's happened to Stevie?

"What happened?" I ask her, urgently. She sighs, shaking her head.

"Nothing, I was just looking for Stevie. I thought she'd be here in her room." Chris says, peering inside.

I step to the side to show her the empty room and she sighs.

"Well, she's not. I thought you were her."

Chris raises her eyebrows. "You don't know where she is?"

"Could ask you the same question," i mutter, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. "Why are you looking for her, what do you need her for?"

"Sharon was asking for her. I'll go and tell her she isn't here." Chris says, before turning to leave.

I catch her before the door shuts, making sure that she will definitely tell me if she finds Stevie.

I close the door after her, then sit back down on the bed, staring at the clock.

As if the time going faster is going to make Stevie come back.

It's now 11:51pm.

I make a mental note that if it hits midnight and Stevie isn't back I'll find the girls and ask them if they've seen her, before i lay down on my stomach, resting my chin on my arms.

It's still 11:51pm.

My eyes snap open at the sound of the door handle.

I fumble around for the clock, desperate to know what time it is.

It's 2:03am.

Fuck, i fell asleep.

I sit up, straightening my glasses before seeing that the door is slightly open, light spilling in from the hallway.

I swing my legs off of the bed, forcing them to drag me to the door to see who's there.

Just as I'm about to reach it, it opens fully, revealing Stevie to be standing there.

I don't know where she's been, or what she's been doing, but i know she isn't sober.

She turns around to face me, and smiles drunkenly.

"Hi!" she says, brightly.

I shake my head, knowing that she probably has no recollection of our fight earlier considering the state she's in right now.

"Stevie, where have you been?" i ask, trying to stay as calm as possible.

I hate being around drunk people, but since it's Stevie i feel a little better.

But the same dreading feeling in my stomach is still there, just like it always is when i'm around alcohol. Thanks, trauma.

Stevie shrugs at my question, trying to take a step further inside, but her heel gets caught on the corner of one of the numerous shawls she's wearing, and she falls onto me.

I manage to catch her, ignoring the repulsive smell of alcohol and marijuana that's wafted over me as she stumbles towards me, unsteady on her stacked heels for once.

"Stevie-"

She shushes me, covering my mouth with her hand. "Pierre, I've got a headache. Be quiet."

I sigh, rolling my eyes.

Stevie removes her hand, then wobbles towards the bed before flopping down onto it face first.

I'm not surprised if the white sheets are now covered in her makeup.

I take a breath to calm myself before i approach her, carefully trying to remove a few shawls from around her incase she strangles herself with them or something.

She protests at first, clinging to the chiffon capes as if they were her most valuable possession (most of her shawls are), but eventually gives up, rolling onto her side and curling up in a ball.

I also give up with trying to help her, after i try getting her boots off and she kicks out at me with her huge heels, nearly breaking my nose.

I'll just let her sleep it off.

I crawl into bed beside Stevie, pulling the duvet over myself since Stevie refused to let me help her any further.

I hesitantly brushing her hair out of her eyes, trying to keep back from her in case she lashes out at me. She grumbles, but doesn't smack my hand away or whatever, so it's a win i guess.

I leave her hair alone, about to reach for the light beside the bed, but suddenly i find my hand back in Stevie's hair, with her own hand keeping it firmly there.

"What are you doing?" i ask, bewildered.

Stevie huffs impatiently before answering me, clearly just wanting to sleep.

"I wanted you to keep stroking my hair," she slurs sleepily, her eyes remaining closed. "It comforts me. Is that such a problem?"

I shake my head silently, even though she can't see me.

I sift my fingers through her blonde waves, surprised by how soft it is.

I know Stevie isn't asleep yet, I can see the corner of her mouth twitching every so often.

"How do you get your hair so soft?.." i mutter, more to myself than to Stevie.

"That's a secret i'll never tell anyone," Stevie whispers, shivering a little before shifting closer to me to get some of my body heat.

"If you're cold let me put the duvet on you, Stevie." i say, sitting up.

When i tried to put it over her earlier she threw a hissy fit insisting she was burning up and didn't need a duvet or a blanket.

I pause for a minute or two, waiting for confirmation from Stevie, but she remains still, so i lay back down.

"I'm cold!" Stevie says, loudly.

I smile to myself, standing up to put the duvet over her.

She huffs sleepily, burying underneath the duvet.

"Thankyou." she mumbles, before letting out a big sigh and, hopefully, drifting off to sleep.

"'Night, Stevie."