Perfectly Imperfect 1

68- I'll Never Drink Again

KAYLA:

I woke up to a throbbing, pounding headache. At least, I thought I was awake- it was hard to be completely sure, though. My throat felt dry, as if I had just swallowed a sandpaper, my stomach was queasy despite being empty, and everything was just so darn... bright.

For a while, I didn't move, trying to stop my surroundings from spinning. With a herculean effort, I lifted one eyelid open, and found myself looking at... sand dunes?

Where was I?

Grunting, I forced open both eyes, waiting for a few seconds until I could focus again.

Oh, they weren't sand dunes. Just a couple of abs curving out from someone's incredibly good looking torso. 

I stared at them for a moment, feeling confused even in my already confuddled state. Did I die and go to heaven? If I did, why is my head so my heavy? Shouldn't paradise be a place of eternal bliss blah blah?

I closed my eyes again, trying to rid the clanking in my head. When I opened them again, the beautiful distraction was gone; in its place, sour tasting bile in my mouth.

"Oh god," I mumbled, staggering out of bed, clutching my hands to my mouth. The room wobbled in front of me but I pressed on, my feet feeling like lead. Finally reaching the toilet, my knees buckled in front of the bowl and I began to wretch my heart out.

"Let it out, baby," Cal's soothing voice reached my ears, as he used his hands to pull my hair to the back, out of the way of any vomit.

"I- I can't," I sobbed, still feeling that god awful queasiness in my stomach. It was true that I couldn't 'let it out', though. My stomach was empty, but the spasms were still there. 

I never knew how rotten dry heaving was until today. The acid and bile hurt my throat, and coupled with my unbearable thirst, it made everything painful.

I sobbed again, resting my head on the toilet seat.

"Shh, baby... it's okay, it's gonna be fine..." Cal murmured, rubbing my back. For some reason, that only made me feel worst, and my sobs increased by two octaves.

"Here, drink this," Cal said softly, holding a cool glass to my cheeks. I shook my head, still sobbing, turning away from the glass.

"It'll help, baby. I promise... I've got some aspirin for you too. Trust me."

Gasping, I slowly took the glass from him, my hands shaking. Cal placed his steady hands on mine, supporting the glass's weight as I took a few sips of water. My parched throat screamed for more, but I decided not to risk it- I might puke everything back out again. Then, Cal handed me two white pills which I carefully swallowed.

"Do you still feel like puking?" Cal whispered.

I shook my head, which was still resting on the toilet seat.

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

I nodded silently.

Gently, making sure that there was no sudden, abrupt movements, Cal carried me back to the bed and tucked me in, kissing my forehead gently.

"Sleep it off, baby. It'll be better when you wake up."

I started to nod, but quickly stopped when I realize it worsened my headache. Instead, I lifted my right hand to touch Cal's face, which was still hovering above mine.

"Cal?" I whispered. "Stay with me?"

He grinned, and the whites of his teeth almost blinded me for a second. Groaning, I closed my eyes. Heightened senses were in no way good, oh Spiderman fans.