Another chapter! I have to admit, I had a lot of trouble writing this one! I'm not sure how I feel about it yet! We are getting closer to the war! :O Who are you hoping doesn't die - I already have the list of names who does ;)
~Lissa
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In the morning, I was reminded as to why I didn't drink.
Crouching on the tiled floor, I wheezed at the burning bile in the back of my throat. I wiped the dots of sweat on my forehead away, swallowing it down. A massive headache was forming, slowly beginning to feel as if somebody was repeatedly smashing my head against the wall. I was pathetically hunched over the toilet, listening to the dripping of water from the faucet and overwhelmed with the smells of my vomit and lavender soap. I ran my fingers through my damp hair, feeling tired. I flushed the toilet and collapsed against the nearest wall, pulling my legs to my chest and pressing my forehead to my knees. A moaning Temp was situated against the cabinet beneath the sink, looking paler than ever.
A few minutes had passed until a groan came and he lurched forward, shoving his face back over the toilet. He started couching up some more, gripping the edge of the toilet, shakily. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling disgusted and aggravated with myself. As he flushed, I started rummaging through my memories - I knew what had happened while under the influence of alcohol. Surprisingly, I remembered it all, but did he? I glanced at him, watching as he leaned back, grumbling. "Blue, this is your fault."
I frowned. "No one forced you to drink with me."
"A man never lets a woman drink alone."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," I responded, rolling my eyes. "You're responsible for your own actions." The tingling feeling in my stomach returned and I returned to the toilet, puking once again. As I shakily spit into the rippling water below, Temp crawled forward and nudged me away, coughing up some more. Never in a million years did I think that I would've ever been puking my guts up with Temp. As he continued to cough, my stomach churned and I slapped a hand over my mouth, taking a deep breath. "Temp, I-I - you need to move."
He moaned. "I'm not done, Blue."
"I'm going to -" Then, the last of the contents in my stomach came up, covering the back of his head. As soon as I was finished, a long moment of silence fell between us. I felt the anger radiating off of him. I swallowed, cringing at the disgusting taste in my mouth. "I'm so sorry! I told you to move!" He turned his head and drops of my vomit dripped into the toilet. "I-I think you should take a shower. Yeah, you should definitely take a shower."
His narrowed eyes met mine. "You think?"
"That's disgusting," I moaned, eyeing the puke on his head. "I think that may be corn, but I'm not sure."
"Blue, if I wasn't feeling so weak and tired right now, I would strangle you," he said, rather calmly. I watched as he slowly rose to his feet, keeping his head tilted to prevent the vomit from falling onto the floor. "I can't believe you fucking puked on me."
I staggered to my feet. "You can use my shampoo - I'd probably use my conditioner too because that corn looks like it's tangling in your hair."
His hands curled into fists at his sides. "How nice of you to offer." He whirled away from me and reached into the shower, turning the handle. Hot water started shooting down, already creating steam. When he faced me, his dark eyes met mine, still filled with anger. I felt horrible for puking on him, but I couldn't hold it down any longer. I had warned him. "Are you going to leave or are you going to join me? I should make you scrub your puke out of my hair."
