Why the Straight One? | Book 1 | bxb

Entry 23 - "Leave Me Here To Die."

"Why are there so many lights on?"

"There actually aren't any lights on. You're just extremely hung over."

He blinked again, then closed his eyes tightly.

"Could you please stop yelling? I think I'm going to die if I hear your voice that loud again."

I gave him a look which he couldn't see. I whispered on purpose, knowing he'd have a horrible headache. But now wasn't the time to argue, so I let it slide.

"Sure. Is this better?"

His eyebrows furrowed, and he wrinkled his nose in disapproval.

"That's just as bad. Just don't talk anymore. Leave me here to die."

"Sounds good to me, but before I go, I brought you some pain killers for your headache."

He opened one eye the smallest bit to look over at me. 

"You did? Wow, thanks."

"You're welcome. They are on the nightstand. I'll get them for you."

He managed to sit up while I got the pills out of the bottle, and handed him the glass of water and the pills. He drank them, then leaned his head back against the headboard, breathing deeply.

"I can't believe I did that again. I knew I was gonna wake up like this."

His voice was still thick with sleep, and his hair was a complete mess. I only bothered taking his shoes and suit jacket off last night. After what he told me, I didn't feel right taking off anything else. I couldn't imagine his reaction if he woke up to that.

"Raymond says I'm even more depressing then usual when I'm drunk, so what'd I do? Cry on your shoulder?"

He was still staring at the ceiling, his head probably hurting to badly to turn it towards me.

"Maybe a little."

He chuckled softly, then winced and help his head.

"Figures. What'd I talk about?"

The secret he had unknowingly told me last night weighed heavily on my conscious. How would he react to the fact that I knew his darkest secret?

"Nothing much."

My voice sounded strained and unnatural, even to me. He turned his head very slowly towards me, and looked at me long and hard.

"What does that mean?"

I swallowed nervously, the feeling that I had somehow done something wrong settling in my stomach. He would never have told me any of that while he was sober. I should have stopped him from talking. I should have—

"Please just tell me, Alex. Whatever it was, I said it, didn't I? It can't be that bad, right?"

He laughed nervously, and I tried to think of a way out of this. I didn't want to tell him what I knew. Didn't want to see him close up again and probably hate me.

"Really, it was nothing. I-I should go get breakfast, and—"

"Alex."

His voice was calm and level, almost too calm. I turned back around to face him. This one I was the one who couldn't meet his eyes.

"You-you talked a lot about wanting to go home."

He waited quietly for me to continue, and I sighed, rubbing my hands together nervously.