From the Ashes

[4] Roman

Roman't POV.

I haven't seen Aleithea in a little under an hour. I'm not the worrying type, but I do feel a tug of responsibility to find her and make sure she's okay, since I'm the one who persuaded her to have alcohol in her system. I lean against the wall beside the bar, scanning the dance floor and bar seats one last time before concluding that she’s most likely in the ladies’ room. Chewing one of my snakebites decisively, I head toward the back of the club and down the back hall where the restrooms are located. Barging into the girls’ bathroom, I briefly check each stall before spotting Aleithea hunched over and shaking in the third one from the end.

"Hey, partner," I say as I come up behind her and pat her back. Her form shakes underneath my touch as she starts gagging into the toilet again.

"I... seriously... hate you-" she manages between puking.

"Hey, I told you to go slow," I retort with a smirk. Carefully, I lift her curly brown hair from around her face, holding it in a pile on the back of her head. With her hands free, she shakily rips toilet paper out to wipe her mouth.

"You... are a terrible person..." She slurs. I chuckle at that.

"That may be so."

Aleithea slumps against the side of the stall, my hands sliding out of her hair. Her slender eyebrows knit together as her face scrunches up in distress.

"I want to go home," she says, her words sloshy with intoxication.

"I think your parents would probably kill you."

"I... want to go home, and I want this... all of this... to just... to just stop. Like now. Right... now-" Her breath hitches in her chest as her chin quivers, and tears begin to slide down her pale cheeks. "I hate this..." she says, her voice high-pitched with emotion. Her body shakes as she sobs, and her make-up begins to run.

Oh boy. Party's over for this one.

I use her elbow to pull her towards me, and I gather her into my arms before standing. She drapes limply in my hold, her shower of curls falling over one arm, and her legs dangling loosely over the other. I get her into a more snug position, and she finds refuge in burying her face into my chest.

"Take me home," she mutters, her voice muffled. I don't reply as I carry her out of the restroom. "I... I hate you soooo much. You know that. I hate you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah... I... hate how hot you are. Like, smokin', I can't stand it. You're so. Damn. Hot. Sodamnhot. But I hate it. Cause... You like think you're... the king. Of everything."

"I'm gonna love telling you about this tomorrow."

"I hate you. I hate you..." And after this, she remains quiet for a while, with the occasional groan or whimper. I talk to Seth shortly before I leave with Aleithea, telling him what's going down, and to let Kaitlin know where she went. I get her buckled into my truck safely, and I glance at her periodically as I drive us back upstate, making sure she doesn't barf on the upholstery. All the while, she mutters "I hate you" and various other insults in her funny, slurred talk. Soon I pull into my driveway, grateful to see that my dad's car isn't in. Of course he's out, he'd never be in on a Friday night, either.

After unbuckling her, I carry Aleithea into my trailer and to the back where my bedroom is. I lay her gently on the twin mattress resting on my carpeted floor, and I retrieve a wastebasket to set beside her.

"Allie," I say clearly. She had been mostly unresponsive to anything since I got her out of the car. I wonder if she blacked out. "Aleithea." This time I give her a small shake. She whimpers, her eyes scrunching up as she turns her head away from me.

"Everything's spinning..."

"I know, babe. Here, sit up." I hold her securely around the waist, and pull her up into a sitting position. She grumbles inaudibly in protest. I sigh as I hold her securely against me with one arm, and use the other to snatch a black MCR shirt of mine from a pile on the floor. "Lift your arms," I say, despite knowing I have to lift them for her. I manage to get the shirt on Aleithea, and it falls loosely on her small form. She slumps against me, and I can feel her starting to sob again. I lay her down carefully, and begin to remove the stiletto heels from her feet. I hear her give a contented sigh as I toss the second one onto my floor. I get her tucked under the covers of my bed before I leave to get her a giant glass of water