He Was a Friend

/9/ He's knocked out. /

Louise gasped when he recognized the person lying beneath her – who swirled his body at the last minute to protect her from the impact of falling.

"ART?! Oh my God, wh— ho— what— what the HECK?!"

She was about to stand up but she felt his cold hands on her cheeks, forcing her to face him. The guy looked both flushed and worried.

"Lou...? I'm so sorry— were you hurt anywhere...? What are you doing still awake at this time?" he asked softly while he moved her face left and right, trying to quickly check for injuries.

She slapped his hands away and gave him a light jab in the stomach which made him gag a bit.

"Y-You drove in this state? Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" she gave him a frustrated punch at the same spot again, which made Art loose the last thread of control he has from trying not to throw up. He immediately faced sideways to avoid her face at least when he did.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!"

Louise hurriedly stood up, looked at Art's lifeless body and went to the kitchen in panic. She quickly pulled a kitchen towel from one of the drawers, placed it under the running water, and rushed towards the spot where Art was lying down.

Art snored.

Why did he drink this much?

Worried, she gently pressed the damp towel to clean the man's face. She was thinking deep on the last time he drank that much, but his sudden growl made her jump. She looked at the still-opened front door and figured she should close it first just in case some paparazzi caught up with him.

She stood up again and pulled Art's legs which was blocking the door way. After moving him enough, she looked outside and checked whether anyone saw them. She let out a sigh of relief when she realized they luckily have no audience and locked the door in an instant.

Now what do I do with you?

She leaned her back at the door, thinking how to proceed.

Art has a studio room in the second floor, just like her – as a privilege of owners. The whole second floor's actually divided into his unit and hers, and the third floor of the cafe is a common rooftop.

She stared at the sprawled body in front of her.

Art's height is 5'11, and although he's one of the busiest people she's ever known, he never skips going to the gym so that explains the lean build of his. He anyway has to maintain his figure being the main face of his band, and apart from that, he always tell her that he feels weak when he skips it.

So there's no way in hell I can manage carrying him all the way to the second floor, she muttered to herself while shaking her head.

She looked around her, and her eyes stopped at the kitchen area. They have a small staff room around that part of the cafe which contains the staff's lockers, three benches, as well as two single beds reserved for power naps.

The bed there should be fine, she thought.

Well, it's either the floor or that bed for him, she added, cursing him deep inside due to the sudden trouble she had to deal with. She's also really sleepy, too – having slept around the same time for the past two nights now to rush some last-minute business-related stuff to push her Japan trip, not to mention she just ran a half-marathon yesterday.

I'm gonna skin you alive tomorrow, you suicidal guy, she gritted her teeth, as he pulled his legs again towards the staff room. There's really just no way she can lift his 85kg body up with her 50kg body.

She stopped and sat on the bed lazily as she wiped her sweat. She popped open her phone to check the time.

It's 4:20AM.

I'll absolutely take my time skinning you alive tomorrow, you jerk, she vowed to herself, as she tried to think of a way to get his body to bed. She rotated his body and made him sit and lean back at the side of it. She then climbed on the bed and pulled his body by locking her two arms on his armpits.

It wasn't working at first, so she summoned all her upper body strength in one shot and pulled him with it.

She gasped when she ended up lying on bed and him lying on top of her. She garnered her strength again and pushed his body to her left using the last strand of her energy.

WHEW, that was intense.

She looked at Art's position and concluded that it should be enough. After catching up her breath, she slowly got up but was startled as she felt her body back at the bed in no time.

She blinked three times, her mind trying to interpret what just happened.

What... the... F.

It was Art who suddenly rolled over, dragged her back to bed, rested his head on her shoulders, circled his arms around her waist, and as a finale, placed his left thigh on top of her right thigh.

She couldn't breathe.

She forgot to, actually.