Open Heart {Under Revision}

Chapter 30- Angel Mine

I woke to conflicting feelings and glass clattering.

Some miraculous fairy had managed to put me in sleep—in a very awkward position that made my neck ache while my eyes were two stubborn elephants refusing to wake up. Way too early for analogies...how long was I lying like this, and wait, what was that noise I heard?

Sitting up, I rubbed my neck and rotated it to and fro to nullify the pain before using my fingers to pry force my eyes open. A protesting haze tormented to pull covers and close early morning hours to dreamland again but I refused to concede. The room was cold since there wasn't in-build heating system and unlike San Diego, Boston surrendered to winter too easily. Through the window left open, dark grey rain-emptied sky loomed over sleeping city. The clock announced it was 4:27. About time.

Again, soft clattering noise came and I stepped down from bed, scowling that I slept without changing clothes. Following my morning superstition, I stretched on my toes—wigging them to know that I could still walk and made my way to living room. Did Sienna leave something in microwave?

But instead, I found Landry.

I raised a hand but stopped, seeing him standing stiff and a fist suspended in air—shaking. Broken pieces of glass scattered on floor beside him—the source of sound. I called for his attention but the moment he turned, something caused me to take a step back into my room. In shock. In fear.

What the...

Landry's jaw was set like two boulders grinding against each other as he gripped the counter in white-knuckled hold. Perspiration soaked through his grey shirt, making it appear almost black and his eyes struggled to stay open. He was struggling to stand there, holding something—something painful...

Suddenly, with a soft gasp, Landry spun—losing his coordination!

"Landry!" I cried out and sped near him, grabbing his shoulders just as he slumped to kitchen floor. Earlier he was spindly but now—much bulkier and it wasn't easy break his fall but I managed, lowering him. He moaned painfully.

"Are you sick?" I asked, checking his head. Dear lord, he was burning up. "You are. Your temperature is too high!"

"Not sick...can't be sick..." he mumbled. Dirty blond hair pasted on his forehead, framing pallid green gaze and hiding reddened vessels that meandered in his eyes. He was paler than a ghost, skin slick and sheen, dampened as downpour.

His head lolled to a side, crumpling on my shoulders. I hugged him close. "Landry, tell me what happened."

"I don't...feel good, Charlotte." he replied as a sudden tremor shook him, "Hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Stomach...oh fuc—"

Before he could mumble more, he lurched forward and threw up on floor. Familiar nauseating stink of undigested food hit my senses and I have yet to develop that immunity towards them so I wrinkled my nose while patting Landry's back as he kept pushing bile and acid out.

"Sienna! Wake up!" I shouted.

"Charlotte..." Landry whimpered, reaching for me. I rummaged an absent hand from counter drawer and grabbed a box of cleaning tissues. Then, turning his face gently, I wiped stains and perspiration. Damn, what did he eat last night?

I asked him that.

"Apple..." he tried to smile but instead swerved his head and threw up some more.

A door opened with soft slick and then, Sienna was here—her eyes wide from such a scene in morning. I thumped Landry on back as he kept spitting more stuff out.