"Ow! G.B!" Pencil moved to sit up, but the restraints around her head kept her down. She squeezed her eyes shut as Golf Ball held her foot on her nose. Golf Ball ignored the tall girl, focusing on keeping the nose straight as her friend, Tennis Ball, wrapped bandages around her nose to keep it in place. From the cracks in her nose, drops of super glue oozed. Tennis Ball tore the edge of the bandage off and taped it.
"There we are, all fixed!" Tennis Ball smiled down at his work. Golf Ball grunted and raised her foot. With a click, the belt around Pencil's head was released. Pencil groaned and rubbed her aching forehead.
"Did you need to hold me down like that?" Pencil asked, her tone sharp and irritated.
"Do you want your nose to be fixed properly?" Golf Ball asked back. Pencil opened her mouth to snark back, but shut it, resorting to mumbling as she rubbed her nose.
"Ah, I would recommend...not touching it, Tennis Ball said. "We don't want you coming back with your nose all crooked," He chuckled, but his face soon fell. "Speaking of noses, how did you break it?" He asked. "Did you trip and fall off a curb again?"
"No, no," Waving her hand, Pencil resisted the urge to rub her nose again. "I went a little too far last night, gave Book some caffeine in her drink," Pencil sighed. Wow, that... does sound kinda crappy. She shook the thought from her head and chuckled. "A-All in good fun of course, but...Book didn't seem to think so," At this, Tennis Ball blinked.
"Wait, Book?" Tennis Ball blinked, his eyes wide. "I didn't think she was capable of hitting anyone," He scrunched up his nose to readjust his glasses. Golf Ball, who had returned to her work desk, snorted.
"You really didn't learn from when she froze you, did you?" Golf Ball teased her friend. "She can be quite testy if you're not careful," She shook her head, returning to the papers on her desk. "What was it you gave her, anyway?"
"Er...it was some kind of coffee from another continent," Pencil began. She pulled out the small baggy and looked at it. "Said a handful could keep someone up a whole night," Golf Ball looked back and perked a brow.
"Let me see that," Golf Ball said. She walked up to Pencil and grabbed the baggy in her mouth, then returned to her desk. Pencil watched the small, armless woman with a look of confusion. She looked at Tennis Ball.
"Er...GB," Tennis Ball turned to his friend. "What do you need the coffee for?" He watched Golf Ball clean off her desk and pull out a petri dish. Carefully, she poured some of the grounds into the dish. She shut a cap on top of it and scribbled on it with a pen.
"Hm? Oh, I'd like to try some testing on this," Golf Ball said. "I want to see if I can use it for...experiments."
"You want to pull more all-nighters, don't you?" Tennis Ball smiled softly. Golf Ball paused, then nodded.
"...Observant, are we?"
——
Book stared at the ceiling, her eyes twitching more than ever. Her foot bounced against the bed, making the bedsprings creak with each bounce. She chewed on her upper lip, a pulsing headache forming from behind her eyes. The air filled with the irritating buzz of an alarm.
8:00 AM
She had officially been awake for twenty-four hours.
Book grit her teeth as she rolled onto her side. She glared at the alarm clock as if threatening it with a mere gaze would shut it up. Mocking her, it continued to beep, the electronic shrill cutting through the peace of her apartment. Book grabbed the clock and pressed the button on its top, shutting it up. She grumbled and sat up, rubbing her aching eyes. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed and slid off. The cold hardwood shot through her feet and up her spine, sending a shiver through her. The cold jolt woke her up, allowing the fog enveloping her brain to dissipate as she stood up, though this was soon replaced with a wave of dizziness. She leaned against her nightstand, letting the world come to a halt as her mind spun.
She moved much slower than typical, but even with her drowsiness, she felt strange electricity pulsing through her. Her mind, pulsing and fizzing with electricity, fought against her heavy body. She slunk out her bedroom, dressed, but not nearly as neat as she was on a normal day. The bright flash of the lights in the bathroom made her wince, along with the shrill ring that followed the buzzing of the light. She hated those damn lights, even before the punch incident. Leaning over the sink, she felt her arms twitch and tremble. Her head pounded with a headache like that of a hangover, and her stomach chewed at her insides.
"Did...Did I eat last night?" Book asked herself. Her voice was hoarse and cracked, and she noticed how dry her lips felt. She looked up in the mirror and nearly stumbled back at the haggard woman staring back "Gyah! Dear...my word," Book muttered.
Her hair was a frizzy mess, framing her exhausted expression. The light cast a dark shadow over her face, but what struck her as most distressing was her eyes. They were dark, with clear eyebags under them. Pupils mere pinpricks, they tremored, bolting this way and that as Book looked over herself.
"I look awful," Book said, taken aback by her sickly appearance. Without hesitation, she took her comb and brushed the tangled mess that was her hair. Sleep or no sleep, there was no way she'd go out looking like she died last night. Even so, every movement felt heavy and laboring, even brushing her teeth felt like she had just got done lifting weights. She stared at herself, now cleaner, but her eyes still weary and worn. She sighed.
The elevator dinged, and the sound of the crowd in the dining hall filled the small space. Book stepped out, letting go of the rail she clung to for balance. Noise filled her head, nothing intelligible, but enough to already overwhelm her. Was I always this sensitive? Book thought, making her way over to the kitchen and resisting the urge to cover her ears. No use in making a fool of yourself...She thought.
She nibbled on a piece of toast, alone at her table, and staring at a pillar across the room. Had it not been for her condition, she would have sat with the rest of her team, but the mere thought of listening to all the banter worsened the steady thrumming in her head. Instead, she sat alone, staring at the pillar as her mind wandered.
I wonder how Pencil is doing... Her inner monologue started. I think I hit her pretty bad last night...Perhaps I should apologize. Her brow furrowed. No, no, she got what she deserved. Who does she think she is pulling a stunt like that? She's lucky I didn't... Her thoughts trailed off. Didn't...what? Book shivered. Before she could linger on the thought, a hand waved in front of her face. Book reeled back and blinked
"Hello, Earth to Book, you good?" Taco leaned into Book's line of sight. It took her a moment to process, but Book sighed, comforted by the familiar face. However, her heart sank when Taco winced. "Oh jeez, did you sleep at all last night?" Taco asked, concerned. Book shook her head and took a sip of her water.
"Not at all," Book said. "I spent half the time trying to pace the caffeine off, but even then. Laying down was..." Book thought. "For lack of better terms, felt like absolute hell," She rubbed her forehead. ?I feel like I got hit by a truck last night."
"Not gonna lie, you really look like it," Taco put an arm on Book's shoulder. "But hey, Two said they won't be back for a while, so at least you don't have to worry about any challenges, right?" Taco's expression dropped as she looked Book in the eyes. Book's gaze was glazed over as if she were staring straight through Taco. Her hands were limp, and her lips were parted. The only movement taco could see was the twitch of her pupils and her slow, arrhythmic blinking. "Book?" Taco shook Book's shoulder. In a moment, Book sat straight up again and blinked rapidly. She clamped her mouth shut.
"Mh! Sorry," Book said, looking around. "I...I think I spaced out for a bit..." She continued to eat, though her stomach only seemed to grow more agitated.
"...Maybe you should try and sleep again? The drug might be wearing off," Taco said. Book looked up at her and nodded.
"Yeah, you're probably right...thanks," Book gave her an unsteady smile. Even with how exhausted she felt, a part of her still felt wired.
——
"God...damn it!" Book wailed through gasps for air. Another surge of fire raced up her throat. With a gag, Book leaned back into her trash bin and hurled. The wave of blazing fury was overpowered with a freezing chill that stabbed into her spine. Every muscle in her body twitched and convulsed with each dry heave, her body switching between hot and cold. The illness had hit her suddenly in the hallway, and she barely managed to make it to her room before hurling. She coughed, a string of bile trickling from her lips. Tears streamed down her face as her stomach finally settled, deciding that it had expelled enough of its contents. Instead, now it continued to chew at Book, demanding to be filled once more. Despite herself, Book let out a choked sob.
"I just wanted to sleep."