Free (Sequel to Trapped)

Ch. 22

Ariana

Sunday, 10:45 pm

"Why do you have to sit all the way over there?" Justin asks.

"Because you're sick."

"I'm not contagious."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm not stupid."

"So you're calling me stupid?" He sighs and I cross my arms.

"You know that's not what I meant. You're just being dramatic. Food poisoning is not contagious, and everyone knows that, now come sit your ass over here and snuggle with me." I roll my eyes.

I know he's right, and he does too, as he shows by patting the spot next to him. I trudge over to the other couch where he's sitting and look down at him.

"I wish you would throw up on me." I tell him before sitting down.

"I swear on my life that I will slap the shit out of you if you do."

"I understand." He says.

I let him lay his head on my lap while we watch movies, and thankfully, he doesn't throw up, but that changes overnight. He throws up about a million times overnight, so neither of us got any sleep.

By around 3 am, I'm convinced to take him the hospital, but he says no.

"Baby, I don't want you to keep throwing up. I obviously know how it feels, and that's only once or twice in the morning. I want you to be better, and I know you do too." He keeps his head on the pillow and doesn't respond.

I wait for the sound of his voice, but it never comes, because he's fallen asleep.

I lay down on the other couch, staring at Justin for a few minutes before falling asleep myself.

Monday, 8:34 am

"I definitely do feel better, now that I've finally gotten some sleep."

"Oh, isn't that great for you?" I reply sarcastically.

"Are you okay?"

"No. There's this thing called morning sickness that women get when they're pregnant. It's extremely bad when their husband was sick the entire night, and they didn't get any sleep."

"Are you blaming me for being sick?" Justin asks.

"No, I'm being fucking Ariana. Shut the hell up."

"Okay, okay. I'll let you have your bitchfest in peace."

"Justin, you asshole. I'm gonna kill you."

"I surrender. I'll be quiet. Promise." He laughs.

He definitely was feeling much better. I, on the other hand, was not.

"Do you want me to make you breakfast?"

"You just said you would be quiet. Now you're lying to me."

"Okay. I'm gonna make you breakfast anyway, because I know you'll feel better in ten minutes, when you're done being bipolar."

"Justin, you're a dumbass. It's not bipolar, it's hormones. Now leave me the fuck alone!" I yell, throwing a pillow at him.

"Goddamn." He mumbles.

I roll my eyes, looking at the TV, which was playing Bridesmaids.

9:23 am

"Would you happen to feel better now?" Justin asks.

I look up at him, rolling my eyes.