love, or the lack thereof (p. davidson)

fourteen

I stared at Pete as he turned his gaze to the ceiling. He seemed lost in thought.

"Whatcha thinking about?" I ask before gently lying my head on his chest.

"Nothing..." he mumbled

"You sure about that?"

I take my head off his chest to look at him. He continued to stare at the ceiling but he had a small smile on his face.

"Cmon tell me" I pleaded looking into his eyes

"I'll tell you one day." He said

I looked at him confused and he just chuckled softly.

"Okay?" I said and rested my head back onto his chest.

His fingers ran through my hair as I let my eyes close.

It was strange that in a matter of seconds of him being with me I was able to fall asleep so easily.

I smiled at the thought.

-

I woke up and my body was shaking violently. Looking over to the window it was still dark outside.

A wave of nausea suddenly came over me and I quickly tried to get out of the bed, but unfortunately didn't make it to the bathroom in time.

I threw up on the floor and probably on myself if I'm being honest. Thankfully it wasn't a lot or else it could have been a lot worse.

"Shit." I whispered as I tried to keep myself balanced. I was still shaking so my hand reached out to hold onto the dresser besides me.

I then heard shuffling start to come from the bed so I turned my head slightly to see Pete slowly sit up.

I could just barely see him because it was so dark in the room.

"Shae? You okay?" He whispered

"Umm... yeah I felt really nauseous and tried to make it the bathroom but it didn't fucking go as plan." I said feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Oh fuck..." he said and I could hear the covers of the bed move and soon footsteps started to near closer.

A lamp was turned on and I could see Pete as he started walking over to where I was leaning against the dresser.

"You okay now?" He asked me gently as he looked at down where I had gotten sick.

"I don't know I just feeling really shaky." I said trying my best to look his way.

"Here come on..." he said before swiftly picking me up bridal style, avoiding where I had thrown up on the bedroom floor and carrying me into the bathroom across the hall.

He set me down on the toilet seat and began to search for a wash cloth.

Once finding one he ran it under the sink for a couple of seconds before handing it to me.

"Here." He said as I grabbed the towel from his hand and I began to wipe my face off.

"It's probably just some withdrawal symptoms." He said as he stared at me as I cleaned my face off.