in your eyes

chapter four

ara

feeling a nudge on my shoulder, i slipped back into consciousness. my head spun for a few seconds, everything around me flashing black and white, probably the effect of my iron deficiency.

"hello, what time is it?" i asked in a groggy voice.

"it's three am," angela whispered. "i finished your hair."

instantly i felt guilty that she had stayed up so long to do my hair while i was passed out. who knew how busy her day was, how tired she probably felt. "i'm so-"

"it's okay, i enjoyed it," she cut me off. "now, let's wake up abby."

looking over to the tub, her body laid there limp, dead asleep. before i could stand up and even comprehend what was happening, angel turned on the water and abby jerked awake as if she was electrocuted.

once she'd calmed, she placed a hand on her forehead, probably trying to calm the pounding that took place during a hangover and walked away from us. "you guys suck dick."

i stifled a laugh and stood to the side as angela and abby left the bathroom, stripping from my clothes and standing under the icy water. being cold meant being numb, it meant not being able to feel your stomach turn and rumble because you always forgot to eat, it meant not thinking nor letting those voices in your head pester you because all you can think about is how fucking cold you are. nothing burns like the cold. and it was a pleasure to burn.

my shower ended up being cut short since my bones began to ache. i ended up drying myself with my dirty clothes since there was no towel and asked abby to bring me some clean ones of hers. i loved abby's clothes. i slid on a pair of her underwear and a pair of black low rise jeans that were way too big and had a few rips. i pulled the baby pink tank that she gave me over my head, adjusting it so my tits weren't completely falling out of it and although it was super cute, it made my nipple piercings very obvious since i had ditched a bra.

as i walked out, my eye caught abby who was passed out on her bed. i walked toward the bed, pulling a blanket over her and giving a quick kiss to her forehead. making sure to stay quiet, i made my way down the stairs to angela.

"you look beautiful," she gushed.

i smiled. "thank you, i haven't seen it yet though."

everything else was a bit of a blur, and the three shots of vodka we did together definitely didn't help. she brushed and styled my hair, which i lost a chunk of, and then moved on to my makeup. concealer, contour, mascara, shit ton of eye pencil in my waterline and chapstick. the first thing i saw when i looked in the mirror was how hollow the underneath of my eyes had gotten, how dark my eyes looked, and then finally the hair. it wasn't the biggest change, yet i still felt beautiful. she'd bleached a few strands of my hair blonde and cut layers into it. i felt so feminine, so elegant yet also completely like shit.

well then.

after thanking angela for all her work, i shoved her into bed and forced her to sleep. it was five am, she was probably so exhausted.

i had decided to take the bus to my house instead of walking. as i made my way to the bus stop, i couldn't help but notice how calm and at peace i felt. it was like i had the whole city to myself, the air so fresh and crisp and cold as i inhaled my cigarette. manchester was so beautiful. i could never move, especially not with my dad of all people. he was bipolar. it ran through his family. i leaned against the bus stop, taking another drag from the cigarette in my hand.

"you know those can kill you," i heard a familiar voice say.

"that's the point," i mumbled without turning to see who it was. "you all smoke to enjoy it. i smoke to die."