Related {Muke}

9

For the past few days I've woken up in the middle of the night. I keep thinking I'm hearing something but then it stops. I've always just grabbed my laptop and headphones and fell asleep to videos of Drag Queens.

My alarm clock blared, ending my restless sleep that consisted of watching YouTube and tossing and turning. I silenced my alarm clock and trudged downstairs.

Michael wasn't going to wake up for another hour so I didn't change out of my current attire. I had on my thigh highs and some black boy shorts. A white sweater fell off my shoulders.

I cut the fabric, so it was long in the back and chopped up above my belly button in the front. I absolutely hated anything that would rub the top of my thighs while I slept. Especially sweaters.

I trudged down to the kitchen, rubbing my tired eyes. I wished I could just stay home and sleep. My head had a dull hum in it and my stomach had sour moths.

"Morning." Michael said, scaring me slightly.

"Morning." I mumbled back.

I didn't think he'd be awake, but he was. He had pancakes on the counter for me. As soon as I caught a whiff of the chocolate chip circles, my dinner came up.

Tears came to my eyes and I screwed my eyes shut. I hated people throwing up. I hated puking. I started sobbing, feeling horrible.

Michael rushed to me, trying to comfort me. I didn't hear him completely as I sobbed harder. I stuttered apologizes out, shaking.

"Come on. Don't worry about it. Go get a bath and I'll clean this up."Michael said.

I sniffled but nodded. I went upstairs and brushed my teeth, still tasting my dinner. I sat down ontop of the toilet seat, my vision blurry.

"Michael!" I called out.

"What luke?" He yelled back, probably cleaning up the mess I'd made.

"I need you." I whimpered.

I shivered, tears pricking my eyes. Footsteps rushed up the stairs and my older brother was soon in the bathroom. I opened my arms, wanting a hug.

"I-I don't wanna be sick." I cried.

"I know. No body likes being sick." He said, picking me up.

I curled into him like a baby, wrapping my arms and legs around him.

"But you can't keep crying. You'll make yourself throw up again." Michael stated.

I silently nodded, burying my face in his neck.

"Can we just cuddle?" I requested.

"Sure. But you need to tell me if you feel sick, alright?" He said, carrying me into his room.

"Okay Mikey." I whispered, letting him set me on his warm bed.

The sheets were changed. I could tell because they were still warm and smelled like lavenders. I pulled his hot blankets closer to me, hiding my face in them.

"Well at least we have an unofficial three day weekend." He said, climbing into bed beside me.

"Yay three days of puking." I mumbled bitterly.

"Maybe you'll be all better tomorrow." He said, being an optimist for once.

I only hummed and let him wrap his arm around my waist. I wasn't going to admit it but the red haired boy gave the world's greatest cuddles. Plus he smelled perfect.

I curled closer to him, my arms around his hips. I snuck my hands up his flannel and clutched his Sex Pistols shirt.

"Come on, just sleep and you'll feel better." Michael whispered, rubbing my back softly.

"Goodnight Mikey."

"Night baby. Sweet dreams."