Sorry, I'm Not Into Bestiality

Chapter 8 -- "...Day twenty three in Danny's hair."

Chapter 8

Danny's POV

"...Day twenty-three in Danny's hair. Luckily, I've stumbled upon a small village here and have found work at a farm. We have Wi-Fi now and a post office. Some children here have never seen the outside wor-"

"Shut up!" I scolded, shoving Cody away as he sniggered next to me on the sofa. We'd been situated in the living room now for the past six hours, aimlessly watching television as we waited for Yvane to come home from work. He was my designated babysitter for the day and had taken it upon himself to attempt and distract me from my painful injuries.

By reminding me how shit I looked because of them.

"Oh, come on Johnny Appleseed lighten up!" He joked, getting up to grab the remote and switching the channel. I sneered at him as I tugged the blanket around myself tighter, tucking my feet beneath the cushions as I tried to warm them up. I constantly had cold feet due to bad circulation, but recently I was going through flushes of being absolutely boiling or freezing at any given time due to the strength of my medication. Right now, I could've been in the arctic for all my feet were aware.

"Ugh, I hate American Telly." I grumbled moodily as he channel surfed for us to find anything that was vaguely entertaining, eventually landing on a commercial for hair loss ointment that had a promise of showing some shitty comedy show in two minutes.

"Why?" He asked, leaning forward to grab a handful of chips as he swigged his beer bottle.

Shrugging I stared at the monitor with my eyebrows furrowed, "You wouldn't understand, you haven't had the luxury of not having three-hour ad breaks every ten minutes."

"They're not that bad." He replied, looking back at the telly as the commercial began listing all the potential side effects of the ointment, including death and suicidal thoughts, "... I mean maybe they're not great."

"Mhhmm." I replied knowingly, taking a sip of my orange juice and leaning back into the sofa properly. I was lying across and essentially taking up two-thirds of the available space as Cody took over the left-hand corner. We had an array of snacks at hand as we'd converted the living room into our own little hovel of a room. It'd been about five days since my meltdown and I was slowly and surely seeing progress. I was now able to lightly brush my hair but essentially only the ends, which resulted in a strange birds-nest sort of look that I quickly gave up on saving and just threw up in a loose bun. My bruises were almost fully healed and thanks to some kick arse medication my concussion side effects were significantly less prominent. I still struggled with some short-term memory problems and my speech sometimes took a second to catch up with my thoughts but all in all I was doing much better.

After another fifteen minutes of watching, another commercial aired which caused me to groan in frustration, "... Cody! I'm bored..."

He ignored my whiny voice and just took another sip of his beer. As much as I hated to admit it, I'd grown considerably more comfortable with some of the people in the house; Cody being a prime example. I'd spent an average of about thirteen hours a day with either Cody, Yvane or Lucy for the past week and couldn't help but find a small amount of enjoyment in their company. However there had been no sign nor whisper of Christopher, it was as if the man had disappeared off the face of the planet.

Not that I was complaining.

"Cody...!" I once again whined, the man's eyes still glued to the television as he blatantly ignored me. In an attempt to get his attention, I felt a small grin stretch across my face as I pulled my foot out from beneath the cushion. Slowly inching it forward, I lifted it to prod him in the neck—the cold appendage causing him to jump and let out a small squeak of shock, "We've been stuck in the house for days. Let's go for a walk or something, see the sights."