What Are We Searching For, Really?

16.

—4:49a.m.

I leaned back and let Mason down on the dining chair, groaning loudly in relief as his weight came off my back.

"Do you feel like throwing up?" I asked, pulling his jacket off of him.

"No." He leaned to the right as I tugged his left sleeve off.

"Are you hungry?"

"Won, I want to go to sleep."

"Fine. Give me a few seconds." I quickly slid over to the cabinet and shook out a few vitamins before filling up a small glass of water. I held them out in front of Mason, waiting for him to take it, but he continued to doze off in the chair.

I reached out for his hand and opened it, putting the vitamins in them. "Eat them. I swear you'll feel 10 times better when you wake up."

"Fine," he grumbled, eyes still closed. He slowly tipped the vitamins in his mouth and gulped down the glass of water. "Can I sleep now, Ms. Lee?"

"Okay, you grump," I growled under my breath, lifting him up again and walking to the guest room. "You are way worse of a drunk than Mr. Takashiro."

"What?" Mason mumbled into my neck. "Musur Atario? Who the fuck is that?"

"No-one special." I pushed the guest room door open with Mason's body and slowly let him down on the bed. "You do realise we have school today, right?"

"Mmh...leave me alone..." Mason rolled onto his back and sprawled out over the entire bed.

"Sleep on your side or you'll choke to death." I pulled the blankets over the end of the bed and covered his body. When I heard the sounds of his quiet, steady breathing, I guessed he was already asleep. After pushing him onto his side, I slid the curtains shut and went back into my room, packing my school things.

Sometimes it really helps that my parents aren't here all the time, I thought while watching Ferry sleep below my chair. They won't ever know that I've had multiple boys sleep over at my place before.

Oh shit. I'd better help Mason send in a sick leave email.

I quickly shuffled back into the guest room and lifted the blankets a bit, seeing if his phone fell out onto the bed. When nothing showed up, I gently felt around Mason's pockets to see if he kept his phone anywhere.

Starting with the pockets of his vest, I froze when I managed to touch his stomach. Even though there was the vest and another t-shirt underneath my fingers, I could still feel the hardness of his muscles.

Yikes. This is the reason why he's so popular, isn't it? Not just handsome...or smart...also somehow fit even though he's not in any school sports team.

I quickly slipped my hand out when I didn't find any phone. Where do guys like to put their phones? In their pants pockets, of course.

I pulled down the blanket further and peeked at his jeans. When I saw a rectangular bulge in his front pocket, I sighed in relief, bending down to it. Let's just hope I don't accidentally touch his-

Mason's hand suddenly gripped onto mine after I barely touched his pocket. My eyebrows shot up past my bangs as his fingers desperately threaded through mine and clasped them, his long nails digging into my knuckles.