➳ hyp·no·pho·bi·a
➳ hipnəˈfōbēə/
➳ noun
➳ an abnormal fear of falling asleep.
Liam's your average golden child. He gets good grades, is in a few sports, has a lot of friends, a few tattoos with deep meanings, lots of money, not to mentio...
I was so unbelievable fucking drunk, and all I could think about was how I got to be this drunk. So as I sat in a leather recliner Harry sitting on the arm of the chair, watching me intently, worry etched into every aspect of his face, I held an ice pack to my knuckled which were throbbing and most likely already blackening.
Luke sat on the other arm of the chair, gawking at my knuckles and trying to grab at them to see the bruises.
So as I sat there, watching girls trip over themselves and attempt to throw themselves on the frat guys, I pondered all of the things that had led me to this moment.
And I also gave myself props, because for being piss drunk I could think pretty clearly.
➳➳➳
I was pissed. I just wanted to forget. I wanted go forget the stupid boy who I was supposed to hate in the first place cause God knows my parents would. I wanted to forget the way he found just the word alpacas hilarious. I wanted to forget the way he dragged on each letter of my name with his stupid accent whenever he wanted something. I wanted to forget that he still likes juice boxes and prefers them over cigarettes any day, even though he denied it. I wanted to forget the way his knuckles turned white from gripping his pencil so hard as he drew. I wanted to forget the way he furrowed his stupid eyebrows when he didn't understand something. I wanted to forget him in his entirety. I wanted to forget his scent but no matter how far away from the dorm I got, it followed me.
And it occurred to me that the reason his scent followed my every step was due to his sweatshirt clinging to my body, him being a bit less muscular so the sweatshirt was snug, so it complimented my build and made my muscles stand out, but I made no effort to remove it. Nor did I want to.
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By the time I got to the fraternity, the music was loudly booming and I thought my ear drums were going to burst, though I could already hear the music before I even got there.
I stopped waking as I reached the walkway up to the porch steps, feeling people push past me and watching them pour into the house.
I stood there for a bit. Debating on just going back home and listening to the bad feeling I had in my gut.
But my lack of bad judgment led me to move my feet towards the house, weaving my way through the people standing on the lawn and porch, making my way through the front door.
The music flooded through my ears, the words indistinguishable due to the extreme volume, and I felt the floorboards underneath me vibrate with every bass note.
