Detention

18 - Puke n that

I eventually leave my room when I hear loud voices on the other side of my door. Even though everythings blurry, it's not long before my mind catches up and i realise whats goung on. I watch as people single file out the front door and leave the messy house in peace.
"I don't care, get out!" I watch Harry shout to one more person before the last person trails out, leaving the room in pause. "Caitlin are you okay?" he walks towards me. It's weird to see him like this. With what looks like worry in his eyes as he trails forward.
"Um-I- thank you" I barely speak.
"it's fine" he pulls me in for an embrace and i'm instanly confused. I can barley form a coherent thought but the smell of him catches my attension and immediately makes me realise what the hell is actually going on. Is this really happening? Is he really holding me right now?
Before I have time to respond, he pulls away. "Come on"
First, he walks me back into the bedroom, holding my arm over his shoulder, steadying me so I don't fall everywhere. Once we reach the bed, he pulls the covers back and gently lowers me onto it.
"Stay there" I hear him say and the next thing I know, he's gone. The empty room spins and I struggle to stay conscious, waiting for Harry to trail back in. Strangely, the smell of toast fills my nose and I instantly crave the food.
Before my mind can catch Actaully register what I'm doing, I'm up and my feet are carrying me towards the door.
"No babe, go back to bed"
Babe?
Babe.
Babe.
Babe.
Am I completely out of my head or did he just call me babe?
Despite my confusion, he continues to gently aid me in walking back over the bed.
Harry leaves and returns once again and this time with a pint of water and two slices of toast. "Here eat this, you won't be so ill tomorrow morning"
I drink the water and only get half way through the second piece of toast when I pass out.
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I wake to the smell of polish and bleach. My head still feels like it's going to explode and my stomach is insanely queazy.
Balled fists rub at my sore eyes, eager to focus my blurred vision as I trail out my bedroom.
Once I reach the kitchen, I see a familiar, tall, hero as he appears the clean away cans and classes into a trash bag. He has black impossibly-skinny jeans on and a black top with a red, open flannel shirt. He doesn't notice my presents, giving me the opportunity to take in the angel-like appearance ahead of me. Shit he looks good.
The creaking floor below my cold, bare feet give me away causing Harry's gaze to shoot towards my direction.
His expression is non-existent but I can't help but blush at the fact he caught me staring.
"I'll do that" I speak, walking over to him and reaching for the black bag.
"No it's fine, go lay down" his tone gives me the impression he's angry at me. To be honest, I don't blame him. He warned me and he was completely right. But I do know I regret ringing him last night, more than anything. If he didn't give me the damn number in the first place, I wouldn't have rung him, making me feel like a naughty child who's got in trouble.
"It's my fault I'll do it" I say again.
"No!" He sternly speaks. "I won't tell you again, I'm here to help. You're ill, go back to bed" ignoring my remaining presents, he continues clearly away the rubbish; eventually, he ties a knot at the top of the bag and places it down next to several others.
"I'm sorry" I speak but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even look at me. "Thank you for last night, you really didn't need to"
"I know" he quickly speaks, avoiding my gaze. "But I did"
My stomach makes a uncomfortable sound, almost like a warning and I feel the colour drain from my face instantly. "Shit" I speak but don't wait a second before running down the hall way and into the bathroom.
My bodies thrown down ahead of the toilet and I angle my face into the bowl, chucking up all the remains of last nights beverages.
My hairs pulled back from my face and I recognise the familiar smell as Harry. I can feel him sitting on the bathtub beside me; his right hand holding my long hair and the left running circles on my back.
More and more burning liquid is thrown up and more and more my face grows in embarrassment.
It's one of the most embarrassing moments of my life because I always put on a front with Harry, I always put on a careless attitude and now, I'm showing weakness, and it's embarrassing.
"Feel better?" He speaks after minutes of silence with my head buried in the toilet bowl.
"Not really" I barely-audible whisper but I know he hears me because he continues to rub my back once again.
"Why don't you get showered and stuff and I'll finish up in the kitchen" he suggests but I feel like it's more of an order than a suggestion. I nod in reply and before I know it, I'm left alone in a cold, white bathroom, wishing the last 24 hours did not happen.