Busted JeffMads

A Little Bit of Kindness

//A/n Ey, so this chapters a bit cliche. This chapter mentions throw up/getting sick so if you're a bit squeamish with that kind of stuff, then lightly skip through this chapter. Also I know majority of this has been James point of view, and I'm sorry about that-whoops. Also this was a bit rushed//

*James pov* 

I could feel my head spinning as if I had been on a roller coaster for the past hour. To add to this misfortune, I was starting to become light headed. Which most likely wasn't a good sign. I was in the same position I had been in when I stepped back inside this forsaken bedroom. I didn't want to take the chance of standing up, in the off chance I were to get sick on the floor.
As another wave of nausea washed over me, my body lurched forwards and I swung my hand to my mouth in a struggle to hold the bile in. Out of all the times to get sick, this was probably the worst. I hated this. I hated being confined to a small area such as this room. But I sure as hell wasn't going to give Thomas the satisfaction of seeing me so weak, or rather seeing me at all. So I forced myself to hold the sick in, bottle it up and stick it out until I felt better.

Apparently my body was having different ideas. I wasn't sure how much longer I would last. In my efforts to obtain myself, I had completely lost track of time. Thus I had no recollection of how long I'd been in this confining bedroom for. Once in awhile I would force myself to look at the Magenta curtains, searching for some type of clue. To my dismay, the curtains seemed to be made of a thick fabric, so it seemed as though not much light could escape into the room. As far as time went, I observed the sun rise a while ago, and seemingly set what felt like hours ago. The light told me that much at least.

I myself was surprised that Thomas hadn't tried to even talk to me yet. I couldn't seem to grasp what game he was playing at. There had to be a reason he was keeping me here...and not telling me. That kind of ticked me off.

I pushed these complex thought away for a the moment and told myself to relax. I leaned my head back, and felt the coolness of the door seep into the back of my neck. It seemed to help, for a moment.

I sighed and tried not to think about the pain shooting throughout my head. I thought about my apartment, and my bookshelf. Gosh, did I miss my books. What I wouldn't give at that moment,to flip through a classic.

My thoughts were once again interrupted by another wave of nausea. I groaned, and decided that I need to use the bathroom.

Slowly, I reach up and put my hand on the cold doorknob for support. I steadily push myself up, and stand there for a moment crouched over, with my hands on my knees. I waited for the butterflies to leave my stomach, and gathered myself again. I regain my senses, and once again place my hand on the doorknob. I realize for a moment, that the knob seems to have lost its coolness, I frown slightly.

I push the thought aside, and turn the doorknob slightly. I crack the door open a smidge and I listen for any type of movement. I exhale after a moment. The only sounds I was able to hear, where the faint sound of dogs barking in the distance, and the sound of pipes working throughout the building. I figure it's safe enough to walk out, and I step warily into the hallway.

I creep slowly down the hallway, and stop about halfway. I can see part of the living room. Even from here I could see Thomas's sleeping form on the couch. I watched him breath steadily for a moment. Then I start to make my way towards the door, I'd seen Thomas emerge from earlier. I assumed it was the bathroom...considering the way he was dressed when he walked out of it. I feel my cheeks burn from embarrassment at the memory of that awkward encounter. Ugh.

I lock that thought away, and continue towards the door. I was about halfway towards the door when I stopped short. I felt my knees buckle under me, and I stared at the floor as if mesmerized by its pattern. My head was pounding at this point,and  my breaths were coming out heavy and forceful. I sank to the ground, and landed with a slight thud. I held my hands up to my head, and started to put pressure on  it, as if I could squeeze the pain away. This usually happened when I didn't take my medicine.I kept telling myself it would pass, and just to bare it for a little while more. Eventually the pain subsides a bit and I'm hit with a fresh, new wave of nausea.