The Sun in My Eyes

42 Morning Light, It Stings a Little

Who was he anymore? Why had he done this? That damned video wasn't the whole story. And even if it was, Yuna was still full of shite. The girl he loved was real and extraordinary, and she would never intentionally use him or hurt him. That wasn't who she was. But the night before, he'd been in so much pain that everything had been distorted. Like waking up and seeing monsters moving in the dark corners of the room. But it was only a trick of the eyes. And now, in the light of day, or rather, the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom, he understood with crisp clarity that the only things that had been lurking in the shadows were his own monstrous fears.

He crossed his arms over the toilet, dropped his head on top of them, and cried. Harder than he'd ever cried in his life, weeping into his arms and his sick.

But no amount of purging or sobbing could empty him of the brutal, clawing truth.

He loved her.

And he'd destroyed them.

***

After a long cold shower, a lot of mouthwash, some tea, and two bottles of a mysterious purple sports drink with the labels peeled off, Bobby started to feel almost human.

Almost.

He pushed his sunglasses high on his nose and slowly ate a handful of crackers over the kitchen counter, his feet occasionally knocking into the bucket Rahim had placed between them. Just in case.

Gary wandered into the kitchen and took his time refilling his water bottle, his gaze flickering toward him. After an eternity, he sauntered out as if he'd had no other agenda, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Both Gary and Lucas had been hovering over him like anxious mums, even after the producers had sent a cheerful medic to the villa to declare him "mostly alive," and to tell him to stay away from liquor.

No problem. Liquor bad.

A wave of exhaustion swept over him. Time for another nap. He grabbed his bucket and headed into the bedroom, but Yuna was in there, blethering away to a trapped Gary. He didn't have it in him to be in the same space as that girl, so he backed out slowly and headed for the daybeds, not realizing his mistake until he was already there.

One bed was neat and tidy. The other bed, that bed, was not. His aching stomach wrenched. The sheets were rumpled and there were smears of self-tanner all over them. He felt the tiniest bit of relief. Of course it wasn't disheveled from the night before. It had obviously been refreshed and then used all day.

Turning to the other bed, he ran his hands over the smooth untouched coverlet. It was full of shining memories that hurt to think about. The ache of his body when he kissed his lass all night long, learning every part of her. Asking her to be his girlfriend while she snored. Lili's tongue between her teeth as she painted his nails with an almost heartbreaking dedication to precision. What had been golden bright-as-morning beginnings now felt like the melancholy retreat of sunset.

He climbed on top of the tidy sun-warmed bedding. He'd take those dissipating rays of light over the darkness of the previous night. Take them one hundred times over. He glanced back at the messy bed. If he could have gone full Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on that one, he would have.

A breeze chased away the afternoon heat and the reprieve felt nice. He slid an arm beneath his head and dozed, floating at the very edges of sleep. Behind his eyelids he could make out the shifting light of the sun, so when a shadow landed on him and didn't flit away the way shadows usually did, he opened his eyes.

Lucas smiled down at him apologetically. "There's tanner all over the other bed. Apparently, Amber doesn't believe in using towels." He gestured to the space beside Bobby. "May I?"