Rambling

08

Why do I even care?

I shouldn't care, I have no reason to be bothered by this. He's...he's just a guy, like me. I shouldn't care about any of this, so why do I feel so angry inside, like I am about to explode? I shouldn't care...why am I so...jealous?

Civil was just standing there, staring, like a stalker. He should look away, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. He was glaring, obviously discomforted by the sight, feeling the bound in his chest and the pain in his gut. He was flustered and bothered, feeling like his stomach was being burrowed into by an animal, twisting and churning his gut.

It was just kissing, just kissing.

He watched as Elliot cupped Jenny's face in his hands, his lips parting into the kiss as he stood at the top of the steps, standing outside of what looked to be a bedroom door. It made his stomach churn, seeing him kiss her so deeply, why did it have to be Jenny? They looked a bit disheveled, so they had probably just left the bed room after...doing what they did. He could see how gently he held her face, how deep he kissed her until his bottom lip was red from the roughness of skin to skin intimacy.

Finally feeling his feet, Civil was ready to leave, when he saw Elliot's eyes slowly open, fluttering slightly. His eyes flicked up from Jenny's face and landed on Civil, meeting his eyes. For a moment, Civil could seem Elliot's lips curve into a smile, his eyes locked onto Civil. The kiss suddenly got deeper, rougher, slower, each time his lips pressed into hers his eyes stayed on Civil's stirring something deep in his gut. Was it just him, or was Elliot staring because...?

Because he wanted it to be Civil?

Elliot's eyes darkened for a split second, lustfully shinning at Civil before he smirked again, closing his eyes once again. He had pressed Jenny against the wall, making her groan in excitement at his force. Civil spun on his heels, his eyes rolling as he walked out the front door into the fresh air, leaving them to continue their make out session. He didn't care about them, he just...he hated Jenny, that was what bothered him the most, he just hated anything to do with Jenny.

Taking a few steps off the porch, he took in another deep breath until he felt something foul hit his nose. Hearing someone vomit, he looked over into the yard and spotted someone throwing up on their knees in the bushes. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was Poppy throwing up, sounding as if she was dying. She must have taken a different way out of the house to get to the yard, at least having some common sense to not throw up on the carpet in the house. He stopped and watched her for a minute, wondering what he should do. Walking over towards her, he tried not to gag when she threw up again, the violent smell of alcohol and food floating around her.

"Fuck Poppy..." Civil sighed, pulling back her hair as she threw up again, coughing violently.

"I'm sorry..." she cried, before throwing up again.

Gathering up her hair, he held her for several minutes, rubbing her back. She must have drank her weight because she could not stop throwing up. he felt awful for her, and did what he could to try and comfort her. He crouched down, trying to get more comfortable, and ended up dropping her hair, not succeeding very well in comforting her.

"I'll take over from here man," he heard from Brock, who came up from behind and gathered her hair from Civil.

He gladly moved aside and let Brock take over, watching as he gracefully held her against his chest, in one had he held her hair and the other he had wrapped around her. After waiting a few minutes, he decided to continue leaving, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was ready to get the hell out of here, just wanting to be gone.

"Hey, about what Poppy said," Brock called, forcing him to stop, "she says some things she doesn't even know, she wasn't serious, trust me, she was just drunk."