Title from: Sober by P!nk
Carla
My body shudders as I sob, another wave of sickness hitting me as I lean over the toilet. Lando is shushing me softly, his hand running soothing circles on my back as I continue to throw up. I don't know how much it's helping. Each time I think the contents of my stomach are gone it provides more, the anxiety that's rushing through me making every single thing feel a million times worse than it did the moment before.
Even when I'm done the tears don't stop, Lando passes me mouthwash and tissues before flushing the loo on my behalf all without so much of a word. I just sit, on the floor of the bathroom, my bare chest in my hands as a way to hide from him. It's not like I need to, by now he's seen everything anyway. I just wish there was a way to better hide the shame I'm feeling. "Please take my t shirt Carla." Lando begs for the third time since I perched myself here on the floor of the en-suite. His voice is frustrated but resigned and exhausted, no doubt his mind jumping through hoops the exact same way mine is. My head shakes so violently it makes my mind spin.
"I can't." Is all I stutter out, in answer repeating my words for the third time. Pulling one of his shirts over my head would feel like too much evidence. Or maybe too much of a reminder. I can still feel Lando's touch burning on my skin, I think having his clothes wrapped around me might kill me. It's too much of a reminder of what we did. What we've done. Lando just mutters something to himself before handing me a glass of water. The nausea hits me with the sight, it's the same glass that was still in his hands when I threw myself at him last night.
The whole thing is coming to me in flashes, I remember every moment but I wish I didn't. The way I begged for Lando after throwing myself on him, the way he obliged with so little restraint, gripping me and making sounds that I don't think anyone has ever made from my light touch. I can still feel how his lips felt against mine, burning hot, like molten lava with his touch poured all over me, each brush of his fingers like sparks. Voices echoed in my mind the whole time, I knew it was wrong. The whole time I was aware of what was happening and I knew it was wrong but that didn't stop me from encouraging Lando. It didn't stop me from whispering his name as his fingers and mouth explored every exposed inch of me.
Lando just knew what to say, he knew what I needed to hear and he was so...perfect in a way that George hasn't been for a little over a year.
The thought makes my lip wobble once more as I push the glass of water away from me with a violence that makes the liquid spill from the edges. The movement catches Lando's attention, the whole time I've been staring into space he's alternated between pacing his room here flexing his hands and watching me with concern. His eyes only widen a little when I push myself from the floor, roughly moving through the small room in search of my dress and underwear.
My hands are trembling as I reach for the dress from the floor. The soft glittering material knocking me sick as I gather it in my hands, pulling it back over my head. The whole thing feels like a joke, there's irony in it somewhere. I made the dress entirely for George's eyes and in the end he didn't even see it. In the end I took it off entirely for someone else's pleasure. "This..." I begin with a shake of my head so minuscule it couldn't have even be seen. "This never happened." I say quietly, the words almost leaving me as a whisper no matter how determined they are.
Lando only shakes his head, at first I think he's disagreeing then the words "Shitting hell!" Leave his mouth in a hiss and I realise he's in disbelief too.
What the hell have we done?!
It all came back to me in hazed blurs this morning when I jumped away from Lando's naked body. Him suggesting I join the party instead of wallowing over George. How his hand fell to my back at the bar as I poured shots. How I suggested we leave then couldn't find my key and ended up trailing behind him here. How over a sobering glass of water his lips seemed to fall on mine as our heads spun with tequila and jaeger.
I can't think about it. I wish I was more drunk so I had an excuse, or the details are blurred when I think back to them. It's all crystal clear, I knew what I was doing from the moment my lips brushed his.
"We have to tell him." Lando has only spoke in disbelieving mutters since his own eyes peeled open, wide with shock at what we've done. This is the clearest thing he's said in twenty five minutes.
"We can't." I choke out, eyes widening as I smooth the dress out over, as if my hands touching it will erase Lando's touch of the fabric. They won't erase his touch to my skin, I can still feel everything.
"He's my friend, we have to tell him." Lando chokes as I continue to search the floor for my underwear.
"And he's my boyfriend, we can't." I snap in return watching as Lando wipes another hand over his face. The nude briefs have been left crumpled by the door to Lando's room, no doubt messily gathered as we stumbled in to his room trying to erase any evidence as we moved. "What good would come out of telling him?" I ask and the man who my boyfriend (who I love with my whole heart) considers such a good friend just shrugs. My throat tightens. There's only thing that could come from him knowing is the end of George and I. "I lose him and you do too." The thought is enough to make my heart crumble inside of me, I'm pretty sure I've already broken it. My own stupid little actions have broken it. "I-it'll break his heart!"
"Carla..." Lando is appalled at my words but he knows they're true. He's paler than he usually is.
"I have to go. I have to get out of here." The words are choked from me as I slide the underwear up my legs.
"You can't just go! We need to talk about this." Lando's eyes are wide and blurry with the remnants of the alcohol we downed last night. Waking up beside him completely in the nude was sobering enough for me.
"About what?" My throat tightens with the question. Lando just stutters not anticipating my resistance. "About how I slept with you last night as if I didn't have a boyfriend?!" He cringes at the raised volume to my words. "About how you forgot my boyfriend is also one of your best friends?" Lando is just green with the fact, my lip wobbles too. This has to be the dumbest thing I've ever done.
I need to get out of here. I have to leave, I should be at the flat. George said he was going to be at the flat.
"W-we need to..." Lando huffs. He's right, we do need to...do more than this. I can see the cogs turning in his mind, fingers running through his thick curls. The thought of them between my fingers makes my eyes flit away, guilt hitting me with another punch to the gut. If I think about any of it too hard I'll throw up again. "You stayed here because you couldn't find your keys. You took the couch and gave me shit about it, it's not the gentleman-" This time when Lando interrupted its not by me.
His phone is buzzing against the bedside table and it's as if we both know who's calling. From the terrified look on my face you'd think he were about to walk into the room. Lando has paled, lips parting and my chest rattling through a heavy inhale.
George's name dances on the screen of the phone, taunting us both.
I'm shaking my left hand by my side, just for something to do as Lando reaches for the device. He eyes me as if to ask what to do, I can only look away, right hand covering my mouth with nausea as my left balls into a fist. There's a moment of silence as the phone continues it's ringing, torturing me slowly before Lando slides his thumb across the lock screen of his phone.
I can't believe this.
"Hey mate." Lando greets into the phone the room crackling with silence after he says that. His words are casual but his whole body is tense. His blue eyes flick around the room in panic, wiping another frustrated hand through his hair, the curls pulled from their usual tight position on his head. Only Lando's fingers don't leave his scalp as they usually would. He just stays frozen, boxer-clad and leaning over the edge of the bed, head in hands listening to George, as if he's frozen in time. I'm not sure he's even breathing. "Yeah, she's here." I think I might pass out. Could that happen? That wouldn't be insane, right? People have passed out in stress and disbelief before, right?
"No, nah, don't worry about it." I swallow heavily trying to control the dread in my body. George should worry about it. "She lost her keys so stayed here, yeah." There's a pause. At least that part isn't a lie. It's the only part of the truth George will know from last night. "It was my idea, didn't want to wake you up." The explanation feels like some sort of defence of me. What happened between us was entirely my idea, I'm well aware of that.
"Yeah, I'll get her one minute." Lando's words make my eyes widen. I can't breathe. The oxygen has been vacuumed from the room I swear. My heart pounds in my chest so hard I can feel it in my finger tips. I can't breathe. I can't do this. I've fucked it up. How stupid can you be?! This is fucked up. I can't just pretend everything is okay. How is anything ever going to be okay?
"Calm the fuck down Carls." Lando hisses into my ear, shoving the device into my hands. His eyebrows are furrowed in complete frustration at this situation as I raise his phone to my ear clearing my throat. Lando's hands grip me on my left arm, grounding me on earth as my mouth wobbles with the threat of tears. His touch is burning hot, I'm telling myself it's the hangover which is making him feel that way.
"Hey baby," George coo's his voice nervous as I lose mind completely. I can't cry, no matter what I can't cry. He'll know something is wrong. "I was worried, I just got to the flat and you weren't here." He explains his voice lacking it's usual confidence. In the chaos of it all I almost forgot why.
"I-I'm sorry." The words are choked out. I don't know what I'm apologising for. Or rather I do and I just don't want to think into it. Emotion grips me by the throat so tight I feel like I'm being strangled in an effort not to sob like a baby. "I forgot," I trail off. I forgot to text George. I forgot about his plan or 'sorting this out'. I forgot about George's very existence, or I at least ignored it. "I forgot to tell you I was here." I shouldn't have been here to start with. If only I kept better track of my keys, I could've gone to the flat as planned. I could've got my own Uber back to the house.
I could have avoided this whole mess.
"It's okay." George dismisses softly and my heart aches as my eyes flicker closed. Only the second they do I can see Lando in my mind, touching me, kissing me, leaning over me on the kitchen bench as his hips rolled into mine. My thoughts block out the way I called out his name in wanton need, eyes flashing open. I don't need to remember. "Carls?" George's call of my name pulls my attention back to the phone. I've missed his words entirely.
"Hm?" The question is almost silent but George knows me too well.
"I'll be there in fifteen, okay?"
"Yeah, that sounds good. Great." The words are choked, if George notices he doesn't comment on it. He only agrees with a small smile of relief in his voice and a promise to be here as soon as possible before ending the call. It's a far cry from our conversation last night, more positive and less confrontational. Yet it's completely devastating in its own way and I'm still let with tears rolling from my eyes with it. Lando has spent the whole time watching nervously from the other side of the bed his fingers twitching as he listens intently.
I don't know if he was waiting for George to question something, for him to work it all out, or maybe me to spill everything to him, but as soon as I let the phone fall from my ear his whole body sags with relief. "We can't tell him." He mumbles and I nod in relieved agreement. I can't lose George.
"He's picking me up." I announce but Lando doesn't even react. He barely even moves, his eyes are stuck on the bed that we shared last night. It's the kitchen which makes me feel disgusted, not so much these sheets. "Do you know where my shoes are?" Lando squints, as if trying to remember before his face scrunches up.
"I think they're in the kitchen." His words feel like a slap to the face, a wave of nausea hits me and I feel myself pale. Of course they are, I slipped them off before launching myself at his body. They must've been missed in the clean up effort. "It's fine. I'll get them." Lando comforts on seeing my expression. He moves quickly out of the room, I hear him briefly talk to someone, there's a giggle and a grumbled 'no, fuck off' before he opens the door to his room again. The entire time I'm cowering on the wood floor of his room, using the wall for support as I picture a George on his way to me.
The guilt is going to eat me alive. I don't know how I'm going to do this.
"You're not wearing these." Lando says the moment he slips back into the room. My heels are hooked onto his fingers before he places them on the small set of drawers just beside me. They clatter falling messily on the surface. I think it's a move he makes intentionally so that we don't have to touch and silently agreed upon the metre of distance between us is maintained.
"I am. Who was that?" My words are fast.
"P." Lando answers without so much of a blink. Does Pietra know I'm here? "You'll break your neck, you nearly did last night." He huffs and I hate the pull that's somehow roused in my chest with the words. Why is he so nice? This would all be easier if I could hate him.
"I'll be fine." I dismiss, reaching for the sparkling sandals which spent the majority of last night strapped to me.
"Take these." He slaps a pair of slides onto the desk as an alternative. They're Tommy Hilfiger, complete with red white and blue logo and come with thick soles that my aching feet are crying out for. I'm sure George has an identical pair from work. "They're not mine, they're Amber's." Lando clarifies, as if knowing I'm avoiding everything that could ever be linked to him. In any other situation I'd feel guilty for my behaviour, I'm still too preoccupied feeling guilty for last night. With the added information I snatch the slides from the drawers, pulling them onto my feet. They're cushioned and comfortable and make me hum in relief in a way that has Lando's blue eyes sliding towards me.
It takes another five minutes to gather my stuff from the chaos of the room. Then, perfectly timed, Lando's phone is again buzzing with a call from George. "She'll be down in a minute." Lando mumbles into the device without so much of a 'hello' or 'goodbye'. "I-it's gonna be fine." Lando stutters, I'm not sure if the words are for my benefit or his. I'm not entirely convinced by them either way.
I just take them with a nod. There's nothing more I can do. I ignore the shake in my body when I reach for the door and peel it open. I slip through the apartment silently, wherever Pietra was she's not there now and I instantly take a breath of relief, shoulders unwinding. Creeping around until I reach the entrance of the apartment, Lando silently tailing me.
"I'm not sure it's going to be fine." I admit as the front door is pulled open by my shaky hands. One foot is over the threshold when I spin around in my spot to see Lando.
"I-Carls..."
"No, I know. Just don't say anything." He'd repeated the four words over and over in the last ten minutes since George promised his arrival. I have them memorised. My fingers tremble and my chest shakes with an unsure inhale as I look to Lando, my eyes filling with hot tears of regret and terror.
"That's not what I was gonna..." he wipes another hand over his face puffing out a breath from his lips that I can't help but let my eyes fall too. My heart has jumped up to my throat. "I was just going to say; I still meant everything I said last night. Don't let this stop you from letting him know how fantastic you are." His words make the world stop.
"Lando..." It's all I can bring myself to say. What is a person supposed to say to something like that?
"I say it as a friend." He defends, leaving his hands up in a weak defence in a joking way that almost feels natural. As though it could never be said in a way which is more than platonic, even after the mess of last night. Almost. Almost, until I find myself leaning into his body again so that our lips can touch once more. That burning lava feeling runs through my whole body with the brush of our lips, his hands fish for me immediately, gripping onto my hips in a way which feels strangely familiar. It's not as fevered as it was last night, maybe that has to do with the fact that neither of us are having our thoughts slurred with various alcohols.
When we part Lando looks stunned. His brow furrows as my lips fall open in a way of explanation. I don't have one. So before anything more can be said (or done) I turn on my heels and head down the hallway, opting for stairs instead of the lift for a quicker escape. Whilst I move in awkward shuffles with tears blurring my eyes for the hundredth time since I woke up there's only one thought in my mind.
I don't think Lando and I can ever be friends ever again.
———-
🫠Lando's quiet protective-ness of her is so hot
❤️❤️❤️