ONE SHOTS┊H.S

Falling

Everything hurts. That is the first thing I register when I wake up. It's as if someone has shaken you up from a painful coma and everything comes back to you one by one, with a tingle of a sensation in your fingers, your elbows, your eyes; and then all at once, you can feel it everywhere — the feeling of being in pain, it's ubiquitous. Well, isn't that the ultimate karma for sloshing away on a bottle of neat vodka and lazing off on the floor?

Wait, what? Floor... ?

Before I can even get to contemplating that thought, my ears catch onto the shrill of my phone's ringtone, the source of all my problems. I internally groan. Why is it that when you're sleeping, the world needs you?

The clinophile in me persuades me to let it ring, let it go to voicemail. I will deal with them later, I tell myself, I need to catch up on my sleep for now. The ring continues for a while. My conscience gradually settles back into the dreamy haze that it had been in once, finding comfort in the melody that is nothing less than a clamour through my quietude. But the daze is short lived since the shrill of it disrupts my slumber again, somehow sounding ten times more intense.

"Oh, for the love of god!" I groan. My hands get ahold of a throw pillow from around me and I stuff it over my head, trying to block out the noise. Yeah, like that would work.

My left eye pops open for a moment and my dizzy gaze falls upon the wall clock above the sofa. 10:41 am. I wonder who is chipper enough to pull a bloody chin wager so darn early in the morning? And what on earth is that smell?

I don't know when exactly I lose my patience but when I do, the blurry screen of my phone magically appears in my hand as I swipe my finger, ready to give the person a piece of my mind, totally disregarding the fact that it could be someone important.

"Look, I am trying to sleep here and I'd really appreciate if–"

"Cherry? Cherry! Thank god!" Harry. "I-I need you, I need you to come over to my place, as soon as you can and–"

"What, Harry? You're... you're not making any sense right now." My body frantically sits up at the tone of his voice, all intentions of sleeping pulled aside.

"I... I... fuck!" He cries. "Cherry, I don't know what's happening anymore, alright?! I just.. just- can you please come over right now? I'm not- I'm not that kind of a person. I don't.. I don't..."

That was all so quick, I barely gather it, failing to register what he was talking about but I'm suddenly on my feet, a little dizzy but determined.

"Hey, hey! Calm down for me. Deep breaths, okay?" I muster the first thing that comes to my brain. From the corner of my eye, I catch a vomit patch on my carpet, the one that's currently promoting a sour smell but I can't find it in me to worry about that. "Now, tell me. What's happened?"

"I can't on phone. That's not- it's not how I..." He sounds like he was gasping for air. I panic.

"Okay, okay, none of that. I hear you." I say quickly, aiming for my car keys and wallet as I grab the first pair of shoes that I see lying around. "I'm uh, I'm just grabbing my shoes, alright? I'll be over at yours in a few."

As I sit here, frantically pulling on my shoelaces, my brain tries to reason with me. A part of me, which suddenly feels vividly diminished as I speak of it, is frantically waving red flags and shouting "You're going to regret this!" over and over again. I wonder if it's wise to run to Harry like this just because of a panicked phone call. I wonder if it's all an act to lure me into his tricks again. And I'm probably right, but I can't bring myself to focus on anything more sensible than Harry's distressed voice circulating my brain.