With a groan, I ran a tired hand through my hair and winced as a tendril of light slipped in through the curtain. My head was throbbing painfully, and I could barely even bring myself to move. 

Slowly, I peeked open an eyelid and tried to make sense of my surrounding. As soon as my vision cleared, I paused, realizing I wasn't in my bedroom. I was in Nathan's bedroom. That beautiful distinct smell of him soaked through the sheets, leaving me with no doubts that I was truly back in his room.

Before I could question it further, the door creaked open, and Nathan sauntered his way through. His eyes locked with mine and though he didn't smile, the slight lift of his eyebrows indicated he was surprised that I was awake.

As he walked into the room, everything started to come back to me - all of it. The fake pregnancy story, seeing him with another girl, getting drunk, and then throwing up all over him, and oh my god...

I sat up quickly, causing the covers to fall away from me. Looking down, I registered the shirt I was wearing - it was one of Nathan's.

Nathan cleared his throat. "Sorry, but I had to change you. I didn't want any of your vomit on my bed," he said bluntly, clearly guessing the direction of my mind.

I gave him a weak and awkward smile. "Yeah, no worries, It's erm...not like you haven't seen my erm..."

"Yeah, I get it," Nathan snapped, not letting me finish the sentence. 

His words caused that familiar painful pang to rage within my stomach. It was without a doubt he still hated me. Perhaps, he always would.

After a couple moments of silence, I cleared my throat lightly. "I thought you were going to take me home?" I asked slowly.

He sighed. "Your ex b- sorry, your friend," he corrected himself with a bitter laugh."-wasn't home yet, so someone had to make sure you didn't die," he said bluntly.

I slowly nodded my head, feeling slightly burned by the horrible reminder that he had found out yet another one of my lies.

"Well, thanks for doing that; it would have been slightly awkward if I choked to death on my own vomit, wouldn't it?" I said with a slightly nervous laugh. 

Nathan did not laugh.

I quickly composed myself, realizing he was clearly not in the joking mood. "Also, I'm sorry for ruining your night. I didn't mean to cock block you...or...you know vomit on your back," I mumbled awkwardly. "But to be fair, it was technically your fault for not putting me down when I asked," I added quickly.

Nathan let out a stiff chuckle, which ended up sounding like more of a stressed breath than a laugh. "You done?" he scoffed, lifting an eyebrow.

 I coughed awkwardly."Yes, yes I am," I nodded.

Walking closer to the bed, he came to a stop at the end before throwing something onto the sheets. "Those are painkillers, for the headache I presume you have," he mumbled.

"Thanks," I said weakly as I slowly picked up the packet.

He cleared his throat. "I washed your weird dress thing; it's in the bathroom. You can go grab a shower if you want, and you erm...know where the spare toothbrushes are," he said, nodding his head over to the ensuite.

My heart sunk with guilt. "God, I'm so sorry," I groaned. "You shouldn't have to do all of this."

"It is what it is," he shrugged before turning for the door.

 As he was about to go, I suddenly thought of something. "Nathan?" I called out. 

He turned around, his expression entirely neutral.

"Why did you have me sleep in your room? Wasn't the guest room free?" I asked slowly. It was a bit of a bold question to ask, but I was curious as to what his answer would be. And a part of me was holding onto the silly hope that it was because he still wanted me close.

His eyes drifted away from my face as soon as I said that, and he looked marginally uncomfortable. He shifted in discomfort but finally looked back up at me when he realized he couldn't avoid my gaze much longer.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, I just did it okay, don't read too much into it. I just slept beside you in case you choked.

"The sharp pangs of disappointment ran through me yet again at the blunted rejection.

"Come to the kitchen when you're done," he said before departing out of the room.

After a couple of minutes of sitting on the bed in silence, I finally crawled out of his bed and trailed my way over to the bathroom. I still felt a little shitty from the alcohol, but I quickly managed to get myself showered, and cleaned before pulling on my playsuit from last night. It smelled all fresh, and clean, and well, not like throw-up anymore.

I was about to throw his used shirt into the dirty clothes hamper in his bathroom, but then I paused. With slightly trembling hands, I lifted the fabric up to my nose and breathed it in as deeply as I could. 

A very creepy thing to do indeed, but it wasn't like he was here to see me....

I could just about make out his scent, slightly intermingled with mine, and it brought a little smile to my face.

A part of me really wished I could take it with me, but I knew there was no way I could sneak it out without him noticing, so with a reluctant sigh, I dumped it into the basket.

Soon, I wandered back into the room and started to head for the door. However, before I got there, I stopped myself, noticing a phone lying on top of Nathan's dresser. Figuring it was mine, I made my way over to it and picked it up. 

Before I pressed any buttons, I noticed it wasn't mine. There was no way I could afford a phone like this - it was clearly Nathan's. As I was about to place it back down again, a notification appeared, causing the screen to flash to life. That's when I saw the background picture.

It wasn't a nature picture, or a family photo or anything I'd presumed his background picture would be. Instead, it was a picture of us. 

 It was the one where Nathan had his lips pressed to my neck as we rode together on the carousel. The same one on the jewellery box he'd given me. The more I looked at it, the more I couldn't believe it. He hadn't changed the picture... Even when we were still friends, I didn't know he had still kept the picture as his background.

My eyes moved over the picture, taking in every minute detail - his hold around my waist, my smile. That day at the fair was such a good day- everything from the lie detector test to talking to the weird fortune teller. To be honest, most of the days I spent with Nathan were good days. It was a shame I had noticed so late.

"Hey, what are you doing?" a voice interrupted. Swiftly turning around, my eyes sprang wider open upon finding a very angry Nathan standing by the door, glaring at me.

"I...erm..I," I stuttered as I looked helplessly back and forth between the phone and him.

He arrived at my side in two long steps and immediately tore the phone out of my hand. He looked as though he was about to angrily storm off with it, but then his eyes fell onto the screen. He froze up and stared at the picture for quite some time, the tension within his face falling away. Finally, he looked back up at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, seeming to decide against saying it.

"Don't touch my phone, please," he said, all anger lost from his tone. I nodded my head stiffly before following Nathan awkwardly out of the room.

"Your phones on the table," he said, gesturing over to it with the nod of his head. My eyebrows lifted in surprise as I saw he had laid out a little plate of breakfast for me. It wasn't too much - some toast and a bit of cut-up fruit along the side. He probably knew I couldn't stomach too much because of my hangover.

I looked back at him with soft eyes. "Nathan, you really didn't have to-"

"Sophie, just eat it," he snapped tiredly as he flopped down onto a chair. 

Knowing it wasn't worth arguing with him, I made my way over to the table. Before I could take a seat, I saw my phone flash to life.

I picked it up and then furrowed my eyebrows as I took in the number of missed calls I had. Fifty missed calls from my dad and twenty from Brandon.

What on earth was going on?

I didn't have a chance to investigate further before my phone went to the call-screen, once more, and my dad's caller ID flashed on the screen. Ignoring Nathan's probing gaze, I hastily accepted the call and hurriedly lifted it to my ear.

"Dad, what's wrong? Why have you been calling so much?" I asked immediately. I grew even further confused when he remained silent, the only sound his lightly stressed breaths. 

"Dad, hello? Are you still there?" I laughed into the phone. 

More silence ensued. Starting to get a little worried now, I clutched the phone tighter in my hand and walked a little further from the table.

"Dad, seriously? What's wrong?" I mumbled. Finally, he choked before letting out a shaky breath, the weight of it feeling almost deathly. 

"Sophie, I-I'm so sorry," he whispered into the phone. His voice was so broken and soft, it was barely recognizable.

The moment the words left his mouth, my heart twisted, and I felt a surge of nausea rage through my stomach. I had a hunch what he could be talking about, but it couldn't be true. I refused to believe it was true. It couldn't be. He was calling because he accidentally broke my favorite mug, or because he was worried about work, or about money, or about anything else. He had to be.

"Sophie, s-she's gone," he whispered, hardly able to form the words through his increasing elevating sobs. 

And like that, all the sounds around me started to drift away into nothing - the distant creaking of the house, the breathing on the other side of the phone. All of it, gone. My hands felt so numb that I couldn't even grip the phone anymore, and it slipped helplessly from my grasp. I didn't even hear it land.

My heart felt like it was overtaking my entire body; I could feel it everywhere beating savagely away. No, no, this couldn't be true. This just couldn't be true. She was still alive. She was still here.

Someone repeatedly called my name in the distance, but the sound seemed to drown out into nothing. Into something so incredibly far.

I don't remember sinking to the floor or holding my knees up to my chest, but suddenly I was there. And I felt like I couldn't breathe, the oxygen feeling far too distant for me to reach. As manic sobs racked my body, I vaguely felt someone cradle me to them and whisper things softly into my ear as they gently rubbed my back. But I didn't hear or feel anything - I just felt alone.

My brain scorched with the realization of four crippling words - My mother was dead. 

------------------------

Author's note:

Yeah....well life sucks and...erm yeah...

Next Update: Monday (6-8 PM - UK time)