immune ↛ scömìche

06

every second you can bet my heart's collecting little butterflies
when i see those eyes, yeah
color | todrick hall

Mitch Grassi's POV

I woke up a bit earlier — almost 8 in the morning, but it wasn't because of the clock. It was odd, especially because I had a pounding and utterly painful headache. I hissed when I slightly moved my head to look around. I could hear the pounding.

I carefully got up and didn't even bother changing out of my tshirt and sweats. I made my way to the bathroom, looking for something to help it, but I couldn't find any. I started to think that maybe Scott left it back in the kitchen, so I sighed and left my room after noticing Scott was still asleep. He was literally cuddling one of the pillows and it was amusing. I knew I'd have to tease him about that.

After slowly walking over to the kitchen and grabbing the ibuprofen which he fortunately left on the counter, I sat down on the couch with my glass of water. I closed my eyes for a moment, as I was still excruciatingly tired. I took the white pill easily, laying down on the couch and not even bothering to leave the sofa.

I heard footsteps and my eyes snapped open, my reflex being immediately sitting up and looking toward them. Unsurprisingly, it was Scott and he looked confused as hell. He also looked shirtless. "Hey," he furrowed his almost-invisible eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just woke up with a headache," I replied, making sure to only stare at his face. "Shit, you sure?" he groaned.

"I'm pretty positive, why?" I asked, frowning. "Nothing. Just something Kevin texted me... tell me when you're not feeling well. I don't care what it is, just tell me."

"Okay, I will. Why are you up?" I inquired.

"Heard you and didn't see you in your bed so I figured you were up," he made his way over to me and sat down right next to me. He still looked tired and I instantaneously felt terrible for waking him. "I'm sorry. I tried not to wake you up."

"No, Mitch. It's fine," he shook his head with a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"You still tired, too?" he asked, turning his head to look at me. "Yes," I answered. He nodded, not speaking again as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Does your head still hurt?" he questioned. I shrugged, playing with the hem of my shirt. "Do you wanna go back to the room, or are you gonna stay down here? Because I'm tired."

"I'll stay down here for a bit. I might go back soon," I answered. He nodded, then got off of the sofa and smiled at me before going back to the room. I stared at his back while he walked, which I realized afterwards. I blushed, bringing my knees up to my chest and burying my face into my knees.

***

Scott came back hours later. He probably woke from the clock. This time he unfortunately had a shirt on and different pants—a simple black long sleeved shirt and some light blue jeans. He was slowly getting a scruff, I noticed.

"You're getting a scruff," I commented audibly. He jumped when he heard my voice, his eyes darting to me.

"Damn, Mitch! You scared me," he sighed. "But yeah, I know. I need to shave it soon."