Coming to Terms ✔️

6: Last Drunk Resort

Xavier (11:42PM)
Letnme innim drunk

What the fuck did that even say? Let me in, I'm drunk? It was only an hour and a half after we parted ways and he was drunk texting me? I locked my phone with a sigh.

How I didn't notice the first text was beyond me, because when my phone buzzed to alert me of another new message I nearly pissed myself. I bit my tongue and braced myself before lifting my brightly lit phone screen to my face once more.

Xavier (11:53PM)
bradford I knowurb awake $

I scoffed.

Harry (11:53PM)
What do you want

Xavier (11:54PM)
cumnto ur door

Why did these things have to happen to me? If he was drunk and I didn't go all the way downstairs to see if he was standing at my door, would he knock? Wake my entire family up for probably some really stupid reason?

I grumbled to myself, pulling the blanket off my pajama clad legs. I practically stomped down the stairs and to the front door.

Sure enough, Xavier was sitting on the swinging porch that my dad spent more hours than necessary trying to install, only to give up and call Xavier's uncle. He had a smug look on his face, his feet digging into the ground to give him the leverage to swing.

"Hi," he smiled.

My eyebrows furrowed upon seeing his camera sitting beside him, facing me. "What do you want?" I reiterated, trying to drill into his brain that we didn't need to spend extra time together.

"I'm drunk," was all he said, giggling a little bit.

"Okay?"

He made a kissy face with his lips and blew air through them, making a raspberry noise. "Can I sleep over?" Xavier asked, standing up from the swing. I took a cautious step back.

I rolled my eyes. "Your house is right there, de León. Go to it."

"I can't," he said quickly, averting his eyes. "It's complicated, but I can't. I'll crash on the floor, just let me stay over once."

Cursing myself, I knew I was going to say yes. It was in my stupid nature to never turn down someone who needed help. For whatever God forsaken reason, that included the worst people alive. Shit, a mass murderer could cry in front of me and I would do what I could to help them. This was kind of the same thing.

So I nodded, walking into the house without saying a word. Xavier shuffled behind me, but slammed into the glass door that swung in front of the wooden one. I slapped a hand to my face and grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him inside. After I locked the door safely behind us, I ushered him upstairs with a hand on the small of his back.

Neither of us said anything about it.

When we got to my room, he whistled-- well tried, but not much but broken air came out. I plopped down on my bed and pulled my blankets over myself again.

"Can I have, like, a pillow or some'?"

"Just sleep in my bed, there's plenty of room so that you won't touch me," I said, already closing my eyes and preparing to get rest, finally. "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. Don't touch me, de León."

He scoffed. My TV was low so I could still hear very well, and I didn't hear him move. Apparently it was a very hard decision between sleeping on the hardwood floor while I had two fans on and I offered him zero linens versus my entirely too expensive bed with fluffy blankets galore.