Beneath The Surface

Chapter 17

Jamie

I wake up on Adrien's couch, groggily.

"Ughhh..."

I groan.

Pain aches in my muscles and courses through my veins. My whole body throbs, one beat behind my racing heart. My hands tremble and a sharp pain rips through my stomach.

Oh, god.

I lean over the side of the couch and vomit into the conveniently placed trashcan on the floor. I wipe my mouth off on my arm and raise my head, groggily.

Adrien sits on the floor, staring at me, wide eyed. He has his chin resting on his knees, which he hugs tight against his chest.

"Hey," he whispers.

"H- hi," I reply hoarsely.

I realize I'm in my boxers and only half covered by the duvet. I blush and pull the cover up to my chin.

He smiles the smallest of smiles.

I try to smile back but the nausea wins and forces me to double over, clutching my stomach and vomit into the trashcan again. Ian cringes.

"Ughh..."

I lay back and shut my eyes, the vile taste of acid coating my tongue.

I can feel Adrien staring so I sigh, irritated, and get up. Another wave of nausea comes over me but I swallow it down. I begin walking unsteadily down the hall.

"What're you doing?"

"Going to the bathroom."

"Why?" he says, following me closely.

I snort.

"Seriously."

"To figure out why you keep staring at me."

I push the door open and step in.

"Wait, Jamie-"

Too late.

I stare at myself in the mirror.

"Holy shit..." I whisper.

I'm covered in bruises and scrapes. My black eye is even worse now and my jaw is a purplish-blue color. A long scrape cuts through the arch in my left eyebrow and my lip is swollen twice it's normal size. My throat has a large bruise on one side and finger prints on the other.

I've obviously been kicked and punched throughout my entire abdomen, judging by the random placement of even more bruises. I slide the waistband of my boxers down just a bit and see the edge of a dark purple splotch a few inches bellow my hip.

"No wonder I'm in so much damn pain," I mutter.

I look at Adrien's reflection and see that he's stripped himself of his shirt and is now studying his injuries, as well. He's bruised, yes, but thankfully not as bad as I am. He has a simple matching black eye and a few bruised ribs.

I turn to the sink and quickly brush my teeth, desperate to rid myself of the disgusting flavor that sticks to my palate.

I spit into the sink, feeling a warm hand on my back.

Adrien sighs sadly.

After rinsing my mouth, I take his hand and squeeze it lightly.

He looks at me and then my chest, and then my stomach, and as his gaze travels lower and lower, his hands start shaking furiously. He shuts his eyes, tightly.