Page 7

Elliott

My eyes crack open to see the sun still fills the room, or maybe it's the next day? I honestly don’t know how long it's been. My head throbs and a sharp pain radiates through my abdomen. My whole body is shaking and I’m covered in sweat, my teeth chattering, and the pain in my stomach erupts through my side and up my ribcage.

I can't help but cry out as I roll over, the stream of sweat rolling off of my forehead.

I reach for the nightstand and the pain shoots through me again, causing me to coil into myself.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I attempt to right myself on the edge of the bed but I fall over instead, hitting the floor with a loud thud. The pain shoots through me with so much force that I lose my breath.

Shit, they definitely heard that.

I don't want them rushing in when I’m like this.

They’ll want to help and I don't want it.

They shouldn't have to help me. I lift myself with shaky arms and begin to crawl…

or more like drag myself to the bathroom.

My sweaty palms make it harder to gain traction on the smooth flooring so I try to use my knees, but the sweatpants give me the same issue.

The creak of the door echoes throughout the room and I let out a low groan, "Just go. I can do it myself." My breaths are labored, betraying my imagined willpower.

"What the actual fuck?" The familiar voice booms through the room.

Shit, it's Marcus. Why did it have to be him?

"Go away." I swat weakly at the air beside me telling him to leave, but he doesn't listen. His hand wraps softly around my waist to lift me but the pressure has me screaming.

"What!?" He says as he darts away from my body, hands up and eyes wide.

"Don't touch me!" I scream out in pain as it takes me over. "It hurts, it hurts…" I breathe out.

"Where?!" He asks as I feel his eyes wandering over my body.

"Everywhere." I cry again but the sobs catch in my throat, silence filling the room as the pain consumes me.

"Hunter!" He yells through the doorway for help.

"No. Don't, I got this." I don't even believe the words I’m saying.

" Sure you do, princess." He kneels next to me and I turn to look up at him, his dark black curls hanging over his eyes. "Humor me. Let me help." But I don't let him and lean away from him as he lets out a sigh.

"What happened?!" Hunter's deep voice booms.

Marcus turns to face him, his elbows resting on his knees. "She looks like hell, Hunter."

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious," Hunter says to Marcus but I feel his eyes on me. "Hey baby girl, I’m gonna pick you up now, is that okay?"

"Baby girl?" Marcus drawls out with a sour look on his face.

"I’m trying to comfort her. Can you stop being a dick around her long enough to fucking help me? She looks like she’s about to pass out!"

His words couldn't ring any truer, the whole room is spinning and it feels like I'm on fire and in an ice bath at the same time. My teeth start to chatter uncontrollably and my gut tumbles in on itself as I try to crawl away, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

I dry heave, covering my face with my limp arm the best I could.

"Shit," Marcus pulls away a fraction, "She’s gonna barf." Marcus huffed out.

"If you keep stating the obvious I'm gonna deck you square in the face.

Now… Lift. Her. Up." Hunter's voice was lethal and I could feel a change in the air as Marcus obeyed his command, lifting me gently off of the ground and hauling me to the ba throom.

I cry out from the sharp pain that ignites from the movement.

He sets me on his lap, an odd place given his distaste for me, but I don't argue as I dry heave again.

Hunter snatches my hair in his hands, pulling it out of my face and up into a makeshift ponytail.

A hand lands on my back as my body attempts to purge itself, but all I can produce is small amounts of stomach acid from my self-inflicted starvation.

My whole body shakes and trembles as the heaves continue.

My eyes sting as they water up and I mutter my apologies as the hand drags softly up and down my spine, the comforting touch eases me.

"We need to call Raf." Hunter says to Marcus.

He shuffles under me, trying to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

I lean my head on the rim of the toilet, the cold ceramic grounding me. The room is spinning but not as bad with the distraction of the cold surface on my cheeks. It isn't until I hear Marcus on the phone that I realize the comforting hand is gone.

It was Marcus? The loss of that comfort doesn't last long as I dry heave again.

This time I don't attempt to move, I just keep my eyes shut and let my mouth tip over the bowl.

Marcus rambles words that I don't even try to focus on as my whole body convulses, trying to expel whatever stomach acid is left.

"He’s coming." Marcus says as his hand returns to my back, stroking just like he was before and I allow myself the touch, even though it’s from him.