My Revenge Obsession

Chapter Fourteen - I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

 My eyes slowly blinked open. It was dark in the lounge and for once I was thankful not due to a hangover; it was just nice to not be blinded.

A person moved beside me on the sofa. I glanced over and then did a double take.

It was George.

I eyeballed the surroundings; no-one else was in the room.

I'd tried my best to stay away from him whenever he was alone during the night. He'd had quite a lot to drink and I wasn't sure what honest, drunken George would have to say to me. My brothers had to have been pretty wasted to let this happen. I could remember dancing as a group, dancing with Bex, then Jake, then George... I couldn't remember falling asleep...

I sat bolt upright. Had I been drinking? Had I given in? Was that why I couldn't remember? Had people yelled at me to stop? Had I ignored them- hurt them, even? Nothing could stand between myself and a drink once I'd had a taste.

The thought of all those months wasted filled me with dread and I leapt up from the sofa, sprinting upstairs and rushing into the bathroom without even checking if anyone was inside. Luckily it was empty as I crouched beside the toilet. When the puke wouldn't come I frantically shoved two fingers to the back of my throat.

Anything to get the poison out.

How could I have done it? Why would I bother? Well, I knew why I would bother. But how could I be so weak again? Things weren't fine at all, I was a wreck. What would my mother say? What would Jake say? Why hadn't he-

"Stop, James." Cool hands were on the back of my neck, pulling me away from the toilet.

"But I-"

"You didn't do anything wrong. We all watched you. You're just tired." George said, tugging me backwards. I fell against his chest and started crying.

Was every addict like this? Or was I just a fucking wimp?

I'd always hated how I cried so easily- it was so unnecessary, and I didn't think like that because of some archaic, macho problem I had with crying. I just hated it for how vulnerable it made me feel.

"Promise?" I asked him. I had to make sure.

"I promise." he whispered.

He cradled my face against his chest, legs around mine, rocking us backwards and forwards.

"I'm sorry." I whimpered.

"Shut the fuck up." he replied sweetly.

I was surprised to find myself feeling as close to him as I had before. Lisa was still in the way, of course, and would probably still be a sore spot even if they broke up and we got back together. But it was my own fault that we had grown apart, and he had always been my best friend- along with Jake and Matt- when we were dating. I wanted to capture that feeling again.

So I dried my eyes on the hem of his shirt, stood up and offered him a hand, asking if he'd cook breakfast with me. He didn't let go of my hand as we walked downstairs. I kept my grip loose so he could escape whenever he wanted but his fingers were almost white as he clung on. It was only when we got to the kitchen that he let go to take out his phone and put on some music.

"Why can't I remember?" I muttered, opening the fridge and bending down to look inside. The milk was out of date but the eggs still had one day to go.

"You've just woken up," George told me, opening a cupboard and pulling out a loaf of bread. He looked it over and then hastily put it in the bin. "Give your brain a second to come to life. Listen, you weren't alone for a single second and no-one in this house would let you drink. You've got nothing to worry about."