Under the stars || James McVey

Chapter thirteen

Katherine’s POV

I was quite confused as to why James had left in such a hurry. He seemed so upset and after what he did for me a few days ago, I didn’t feel like leaving him alone. Maybe he just wanted be alone, that’s why he walked away. But then again, why come to a house crammed full of people when you need space? Feeling as though I owed somewhat something to him, I excused myself from James’ friends and followed in pursuit of him, trying not to trip over empty bottles and cups. Manoeuvring through crowds of drunken and horny teenagers, I searched the whole house, downstairs and upstairs, where, with just my luck, walked in on three sex crazed couple, and wondered why I ever came to such a place like this.

Sighing heavily to myself, I come to realise that James was not in the house and had just left. Leaning against the windowsill in the upstairs landing, I peer over the garden, taking the in the freshly cut lawn and tripped bushes, and that’s when I see him. He was sitting on the steps on his own, looking up the sky. Something seemed to be wrong, as he kept swaying slightly, his head shaking viciously, before he fell to the concrete.

“JAMES!” I scream as I watch his head connect with the ground. Without thinking, I lunge myself down the stairs, not caring when I forcefully shove people out the way and receive a few cold comments. I raced to the back door, bolting through it and land ungracefully by James’ side. I pull his head onto my lap and his skin felt hot against my palms. “Oh my god, James, can you hear me?” He grunts quietly and murmurs something incoherent.

“What the fuck?” I snap my head up at the exclamation and see Tristan bolt to my side. His expression was panicked as he saw his friend twitching in my arms. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” I stammer, “I was upstairs and looking through the window when I saw him collapse. How much has been drinking?”

“James doesn’t drink,” Tristan replies gravely.

“W-what?” If James wasn’t drinking, and he’d collapsed, then something was seriously wrong. I look back at Tristan for an answer, but receive none, except a worried stare.

“Come on, help me get him inside.” Tristan pulled on his James’ arms over his shoulders, whilst I did the same with his other, and we both carried him back into the house and up the stairs with a heck of a lot of struggle. After walking in on a couple of steamy situations, we managed to find an empty room at the end of the hall, by which point James had started to stir awake. We laid him on the bed and I checked his head once more; he was starting to cool down a little, but was still very warm. “Is he ok?” I glance back up at the tall blonde and see his horrified expression.

“He’s ok, Tristan. I’m just going to get him a damp cloth to cool him down. Stay with him, I’ll be back in a second.” And with that, I left the room in search for the bathroom. I managed to find it and sighed with relief that it was empty. I grabbed a little wash towel and a plastic bowl from the cupboard underneath the sink and fill it with cold water. Chucking the towel into the half-filled, I make my way back to the last door and am pleased to see James awake and talking quietly to Tristan. A faint smile forms on my lips as I place the bowl onto the bedside table and dunk the wash towel into it.

“Hey,” He says hoarsely.

“Hey,” I reply. He tries sitting up but I don’t let him. I squeeze the excess water from the rag and place in gently to his head.

“Thanks,” he says and I nod in response. I look up to find Tristan awkwardly perched on the end of the bed, watching us intently.

“Go back to the party, Tristan. I’ll look after him, he’ll be alright.” I say to him. He looked between me and James, and James nods for approval. He replies with a simple ‘ok’ and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. A soft hand on mine brings my attention back to the blue eyed boy lying beside me. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed I guess,” He says, his eyes never leaving mine, and his hand lowered to his stomach.

“Does it happen a lot?” I don’t know why I asked, but something in the way Tristan acted and the look on James’ face now, it seemed to be a little too familiar for them.

He takes a deep breath before answering. “Yeah, it’s nothing new. I just lose focus sometimes and things go black.” His voice was strained and his face saddened. He refused to look at me and kept his gaze focused on his twiddling thumbs. I let out a light breath and remove the rag from his forehead and place it back in the bowl, making sure to wipe away any water droplets that soaked his skin. My fingers traced the outline of his cheekbone where a droplet had travelled down, and ran my thumb in slow circles for a comforting gesture. I didn’t know what to say to him after his explanation, I didn’t want to pry into his problems, so brushed his hair back from his face where it had dishevelled and pressed my palm to his forehead once more to check for a fever, but luckily, his hot and sweat state had subsided, and some of the colour had returned to his cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

His question caught me off-guard and my hand froze in place where I caressed his cheek. “You looked after me when I needed it, the least I can do is to help in return.” His eyes close and he inhales sharply.

“I don’t deserve any help,”

I look at his pained face in confusion and wonder why such a caring boy could say such things, but then, I knew nothing of his past, I only knew of mine. I decided to climb up on the bed and sit up against the headboard beside him. He looks at me in shock when I pull him into my chest, so his head lay against my chest and my arms wrapped around his, his hands intertwined with mine. I hold him close and whisper the three words that show my understanding of his pain.

“Nor do I.”