Fanfics

Sloth - by hartorotica

IV. Sloth
[spiritual or emotional apathy | being physically and emotionally inactive. Can also indicate a wasting due to lack of use, concerning a person, place, thing, skill, or intangible ideal that would require maintenance, refinement, or support to continue to exist]
June 18, 2013
It's been what, one day? Two days? It is hard to grasp any concept of time while you are adamantly staying in bed and not getting out of it other than go to the bathroom. Goose has peaked her ears each time she's come out of her bedroom, running after her until the bathroom door is slammed shut. After a few fruitless runs, the dog has given up and decides that the only way to a full bowl of food is going to be becoming best buddies with Mamrie instead. As for food, Grace realises that it is majorly overrated. She had once heard that you could go without water for two days, tops. You could go without food for approximately two weeks. She isn't tempted to try it, but two days after her In-N-Out binging she still doesn't feel hungry whatsoever.
"Grace?"
She doesn't bother looking up at Mamrie who has suddenly appeared next to her bed. She grunts something and digs her face deeper into her pillow, simultaneously trying to pull up the duvet so that she can avoid looking at her flatmate. The older woman is not having any of it; she grabs the corner of the duvet and yanks it back, exposing Grace to a cold she has not experienced in over 48 hours.
"Leave me alone." She sighs, reaching down and pulling the duvet back over her, "I'm tired."
From doing what, exactly?" Mamrie asks, "Grace, you've been in bed for two days."
"Maybe I'm sick."
"Maybe I'm sick of your excuses." The redhead sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching out and gently stroking her friend's back, "Grace, talk to me. What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"You are a shit liar, Helbig."
No. Hannah is a shit liar. She is positively awesome at lying. Considering the fact nobody has yet discovered her sordid little secret and no one seems to pick up on the fact that she misses the smaller brunette impossibly much, she thinks she is doing pretty well at lying. Of course, that does not seem like a socially acceptable response, so instead she just shrugs. Meanwhile Goose has found her way into her bedroom and pushes against Mamrie's legs, eager to be picked up and to find out what's going on with her human and why her human is no longer playing with her. Mamrie gives in after a few nudges, picks the dog up and places it down on the bed.
"Goose, no." Grace sounds tired, "Not on the bed."
The dog ignores her and Mamrie for once does not make any attempt to take the dog out of rooms she's not supposed to be in. Goose crawls over Grace's body and ends up laying next to her head, curled up next to the human she now no longer seems to understand properly. The blonde grunts and the dog mistakes this for being sad and licks the side of her face briefly. It earns her a nearly missed swat. Refraining from trying to do anything more, she retreats and just lays down, looking in between her blonde and the redhead who is now looking at their exchange worriedly.
"Don't take your foul mood out on the dog, Grace."
"I'm not in a foul mood." The blonde turns her head to face Mamrie, "The only thing that's pissing me off right now, is you."
Mamrie looks at her dumbfounded. In the past two years of deep friendship, she's never known Grace to be so plain rude to anyone, not even mentioning her. She's at loss for words for a second, and decides that it's probably best if she just leaves it. She forces a smile and gets up, determined not to say anything else anymore. As she reaches the door, she hears Grace mumble some sort of apology, but her ego has been hurt too much. She contemplates slamming the door but decides against it, realising that Goose is probably going to want to get out of Grace's room sometime soon and Grace does not seem willing to get out of bed to eat, never mind letting Goose out.
"Mamrie, I'm sorry." Grace's voice croaks, louder, "I'm sorry." She repeats.
"Well." So much for not saying anything anymore. "Could you just tell me what's wrong?"
"Hannah hasn't phoned."
Hannah hasn't phoned? Mamrie is at loss for words, again. Failing to understand why this seems like such a big deal, especially when the brunette returns within four days, she tries to connect the dots - to no avail.
"Okay." She brings out, slowly, "Have you tried ringing her yourself?"
"No."
"Why not?" Mamrie leans against the door post, "Grace, I'm noticing a déjà vu here. We had this exact same conversation a few days ago."
She wants to explain this, badly. She wants to tell Mamrie what happened in Canada and what happened in Washington and how it's messed her up. But she's sure that there is no way that Mamrie would possibly understand. She was there. Twice. And she still didn't notice anything off. Grace just shakes her head, worn out by frustration already. The redhead stands still for a couple of seconds, then sighs and leaves the room without another word.
"I'm sorry for earlier, Goose."
She turns to face her dog, who is still looking at her guiltily. She forces a smile and pets the dog's head gently before cuddling up to her. Today is not going to be a very productive day. For a moment, she contemplates trying to get up and make a DailyGrace video, but she can't be bothered. At all. Total apathy. I think I've reached it. She grunts and closes her eyes, trying to fall asleep.
-
Okay, now he was close, trying to domesticate you, but you're an animal, baby, it's in your nature.
Her phone rings from the bedside table and it seemingly annoys Goose as much as it annoys her. She squints her eyes open and reaches out to grab it, slender fingers grasping the edge of the iPhone before it unceremoniously slips out of her hand and hits the floor with a loud thud. Shit. She immediately feels more awake and leans over the edge of the bed to check whether the screen is not cracked. And again - Hannah fucking Hart's face. She called? For a second, she feels hopeful.
"Hi?" She tries, hating the fact her voice sounds weird nowadays, "Hi!" She reaffirms, "How are you?"
"Yeah, let's not play that game." Hannah sounds... weird, too, "What is going on, Grace?"
"Nothing."
Alarm bells. Loads of them, accompanied by flashing lights and neon danger signs. A million thoughts run through her head as to why Hannah is calling her and how on earth did she find out that she wasn't feeling completely okay and - oh shit.
"- and then Mamrie called me." Fucking Mamrie. "And apparently she can't figure out what's up with you either, but she said I should give you a call. So, here we are. Talk to me, Grace."
"It's nothing, really." She makes a mental note to kill Mamrie after she hangs up the phone, "I just missed you, I guess."
"But I have been gone for weeks." Hannah reasons, "And I'm coming back in four days, so I'm nearly home and now you freak out? That doesn't make sense, Grace." Silence. "Grace?"
"Hm?"
"Is this about, um..." Don't. Don't, don't, don't. "Canada?" It could have been worse. She could have said - "Or the thing that happened in DC?"
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It is unfair that someone who is not even in the same state, manages to luckily guess what's wrong with you while you are tricking everyone else, including the people who happen to share your flat with you. She tries to form some kind of coherent response in her head before managing to say something.
"Maybe."
Great fucking going. She shuts her eyes and slaps her forehead, surprised at her own stupidity. You should have just denied that, you idiot. She figures that if Hannah had just been guessing, she now knows. The silence at the other side of the line kind of confirms this.
"Grace." And now her tone changes, "Babe, listen to me. Canada... We were drunk. And DC... Well, we were drunk in DC as well." She laughs nervously, "Maybe we should really consider not getting drunk around each other anymore."
Grace doesn't know whether she likes the sound of that or not. On one hand, it's most likely going to stop anything more weird from happening. On the other hand - same reason. What if she wants more weird things to happen. No. You don't. You don't want that. Say something.
"You're right." She says quietly, "I should drink less."
"An occasional Baileys would still work!" Hannah is back to her normal, cheerful self, "Look, Grace. Get out of bed and take a shower or something, alright? I'm not even in California and I can tell from here that you reek. Get some food down you, take your bitch for a walk and make some videos because I did notice you didn't put one up yesterday." Pause. "Aren't you supposed to do John's thing today, anyway? You haven't forgotten about that, have you?"
Fuck. John Green.
"Course not." Grace feels like crying, "Uploading it later on."
"What is it about?"
Oh, come the fuck on.
"Surprise."
Silence.
"You haven't made it yet, have you?"
Fuck Hannah Hart and her sixth sense for bullshit. She mumbles something and hears a sigh coming from Denver or wherever the fuck Hannah is right now.
"I got to go, Grace." Hannah now sounds equally tired, "I'll phone you tomorrow. For real this time. And we'll talk on Saturday, okay?"
"There's nothing much to say?" Grace suddenly feels alarmed, "As you said, we were drunk. It was nothing, Hannah. Neither of us meant anything they said or did, and it's embarrassing enough as it is."
There's another silence, although this time it feels more tensed.
"Neither of us meant any-" She hears Hannah shut up and inhale deeply, "Right. Okay. Grace, I'm gonna go now. Get up, shower and be productive."
"To-done list doesn't work for me."
"Get your act together and do something productive today or I swear to God I won't come see you on Saturday. The stench might make me faint."
This makes her smile, somehow. She hums in agreement and sits up.
"Fine." She admits defeat, "You win."
"Great." Hannah chuckles, "That only took me what, ten minutes to convince you. I'm losing my charm, Helbig. Right. Text me later, I've got this meet-up to get to. Byeee! Sorry, your catchphrase. But seriously though - byeee!"
She hangs up before Grace has a chance to reply. And suddenly her earlier vigour to get shit done is gone once again. Meet-ups. More meet-ups. And it comes flooding back to her. She tries to say a little mantra; tries to convince herself that Hannah is back in less than 100 hours and she's going to stay in LA. Until she leaves for Europe. She doesn't know how that makes her feel. Sure, it's cool for Hannah and you know, yay, but she can't take planes to Europe whenever she pleases, just because she wants to stare at that moppy hair and that stupid freckle and fuck.
"Grace?" Mamrie sounds from behind the door, "Hannah texted me saying that she phoned. Are you alright now? Can I come in?"
She feels like she has to fake being all better. Whatever you do, don't let anyone notice that you are not in fact totally alright now. She sits up and clears her throat, before yelling a 'yup'. Mamrie opens the door and looks at her curiously.
"Hi." The redhead grins, "Sooo, what was it that you could tell Hannah and not me?"
"Nothing major." Grace feels her heart thud too loudly, "Just some issues we had. It's okay, we're cool now." She tries to divert the subject, "You look nice."
"Audition!" Mamrie chirps. Thank God she's easily distracted. "I'm gonna leave for it right now, actually, I'm not going to be back before seven or something. Hannah said you were gonna get up and shower and upload your Vlogbrother thingy?" Mamrie grins, "Can't wait to see that tonight, babe. There's some leftovers in the fridge, if you are hungry."
"Thanks Mames."
"Most welcome." The older woman smiles, "Right. Got to run! See you tonight!"
As she leaves, Grace wonders why Hannah lied to Mamrie about the video. She definitely knew I hadn't made anything yet. She looks around her bedroom, contemplating keeping her promise to Hannah and getting up and doing shit. Then her eyes drift to Goose and how the dog is gently snoring next to her, and this looks more tempting. It's not like Hannah kept her promises either. She sighs and lays back down, determined not to get out of bed just yet. Just a few more hours. She ignores the gnarling sound of her stomach and her pounding headache, and just closes her eyes once more.