PULSE

(twentysix) march 16

(TWENTYSIX) MARCH 16

"Hey, you," Lev said sharply, shaking me from my sleep. "Get up before I leave you here. We're going home."

I blinked, grimacing as the brightness spurred an immediate pulsing between my eyes. He grabbed my arm and I started to sit up quickly before stopping halfway, groaning and pressing my palm to my forehead.

"Yeah, I know. It's called a hangover. Don't drink and you don't have to worry about it."

I moaned as he pulled me unceremoniously to my feet in the middle of Ava's bedroom. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I doubled over my knees covered my mouth with my hand. Lev dragged me out of the room, stumbling and unsteady on my feet, still curled half-way around myself as an effect of the sickness and headache I was battling. He only stopped for the briefest moment at the front door, nodding respectfully to the Old Lady before hauling me outside and letting the door slam.

I staggered a few steps out of the shop, then finally managed to say, "Lev, stop."

Almost the moment that I wrenched myself out of his grasp, I lurched toward the curb, losing my stomach in the street. Lev only stared at me for a second or two, watching, but eventually crossed the distance toward me and laid his hand on my back.

"So, are you going to drink again?" he asked.

I shook my head, my sweaty hair sticking around my eyes. "No."

Lev finally cracked a small smile, patting my back hard as I slowly straightened up. "Yeah, you shouldn't. I thought I had low alcohol tolerance, but you made me look like a heavy-weight."

"Yeah, yeah. Just get me home."

He nodded, grabbing me by my arm again and helping me toward his mom's car, which was parked a little further down the curb. We climbed in side by side, and he handed my a water bottle that had been rolling around on the floor of the car, by our feet. I gratefully accepted it, drinking until the acidic taste of my own vomit began to finally fade. He started the engine and for a few minutes, we only drove in silence.

"You know, I'm pretty pissed off at you," he said when he spoke up.

I nodded toward the ground.

"Obviously I can't dump you out on your own, and I'm not going to make you go back home and live by yourself. But you don't have to make things so damn difficult on me."

I leaned over, resting my face in my hands.

"So, do you have to be so hard on me? I'm the only one here, Aidan. I'm the only one helping. Do you think you could start at the very least respecting that and treating me with some decency?"

"What are you getting at, Lev?" I mumbled into my hands. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. Are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

"My head is killing me. Can we do this later?"

"No, I want to do this now."

I sighed, taking my face out of my hands. "Then pull over. I'll walk."

"No, you won't. Have you seen yourself?" Lev demanded, tightening his grip on the wheel.

"Why are you always telling me what to do?" I yelled, causing my head to scream in pain.