Static /// Colby Brock

One bomb after another

Colby's POV

We ended up staying in Maine an entire week after the wedding. Nothing really special happened. A lot of pictures, a lot of laughs, drinks etc. It was the best vacation I've ever been on. Also, I've never seen someone hold a hangover for two and a half days. It was impressive.

- I swear to God, if we have to fly back to Brooklyn with this sickness of mine, I'll just cut my loses and stay here - I remember her telling me after throwing up the first morning.

- I told you knocking back ten shots in a row on a nearly empty stomach isn't the best idea - I said as I held her hair back and away from her pale green face.

- Do you really think an "I told you" is appropriate right now? And do you think I'll ever listen? - she groaned and straightened her back after being hunched over the toilet for so long.

- I doubt it - I said - But that doesn't mean I'll stop trying to knock some sense into that hard head of yours. - I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple - Better?

- How did you know that's where it hurt? - she gave me a frown, an awfully cute one

- I know everything. You should be aware of that by now  

- Stop acting like a know-it-all! - she frowns an even angrier frown

- And you quit acting like a baby, or at least less like a child - I stood up, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind her and lifting her off the floor in the bathroom of our hotel room.

She instinctively bent her legs at the knee, making sure her bare feet weren't touching the ground. I did tell her angels weren't supposed to touch the ground. She laughed at me, telling me I'm cheesy, but there she was now - proving me right.

- And stop quoting Blackbear! - she kicked her feet like a real kid throwing a tantrum.

All I could do is laugh. She really hasn't and will never change.

*Back in Brooklyn*

- Are you sure this is OK? - I asked her as we walked into her parent's house

This time, unlike last time, the house was empty, silent. If I'm being completely honest, it felt a lot more welcoming that way. I dropped the bags by the front door as Sabrina turned the key, locking the door. She dropped the duffel bag and the backpack next to the suitcases and ran to the bathroom to throw up. It was her first time throwing up that day, thankfully. The flight went by smoothly, seeing as how she slept through the majority of it. One thing that kept nagging me during the entire trip was this one "maybe" that just refused to vanish.

What if it isn't a hangover? What if it's something more serious? It could be a virus or the flu. Or maybe it is......

- First time today! - she yelled from the bathroom - I consider that progress!

I slowly built up the courage to walk over to the bathroom door. I started thinking of all the ways I could ask the question in my mind while at the same time beating around every God damn bush. She was already on her feet, stretching the skin under her eyes, mumbling curse words about the bags underneath her eyes.

- You're good? - I asked hesitantly

- Yeah, I'm fine - she nodded while still looking at the mirror in front of her

I hit the first bush - Nothing else out of the ordinary? How's your head?

- It's good. I'm OK. Stop worrying - she turned to look at me this time and smiled sweetly

I hit the second bush - You sure?

- 100% - she nodded yet again.

God bless her patience that day cause she still replied calmly despite me asking her the same question just phrased differently at least ten times.