The aftermath

The whole car ride home I held a plastic bag in case I needed to puke. The motion of the car was putting me to sleep and making me nauseous simultaneously.

Once we got back to the apartment, without question, Bryson scooped me up and brought me in. He sat me on the couch and took off my sandals. It was a reverse Cinderella moment.
"Hey, Brycie?" He chuckled a little.
"Yeah?" I blink a few times trying to focus on him.
"Thank you." He was now my personal superhero.
"Any time." Our eyes met and my body filled with warmth. The draw to kiss him came more often and hungrier. Ignoring the urge, I stood up.
"Imma go throw up now." I started down the hall.
"I don't think that's the best idea you've had." He jogged a few steps to catch up to me.
"I need the drugs out."
"You can sleep them off." I shook my head and he sighed. "Come on, you can take a warm bath then go off to bed." A bath did sound much better than puking.
"Okay."

Bryson drew a bath with Epsom salt while I sat on the toilet lid, head still reeling, just watching. He looked up at me.
"How are ya feeling?"
"High as fuck." He chuckled then coughed trying to cover it up. He wasn't wrong, it was funny. I started to laugh at myself.
"You're not gonna drown, are you?"
"There's always a slim chance for drowning sober or not, but no I don't think so."
"Okay, well I'll be not far if you need me." Bryson got up off the floor. I grabbed his hand, he looked back down at me.
"Can you get me out in a half an hour? I have no sense of time." He smiled slightly.
"Sure."

Slowly, I undressed. I was trying not to fall in any direction and crack my head open. I probably should have asked Bryson to help me with this, but yet again, I didn't want him to see me naked. Sinking into the warm water, I sighed. I couldn't remember the last time I took a bath just to take a bath. Usually, I take baths because I'm sick or so sore from working out or paintballing. This was nice.

It felt like I had only been in for a few minutes when a tap came at the door.
"Hey, Rene?" I hummed in acknowledgment. "It has been half an hour." I hadn't fallen asleep because I felt like a boat on the sea in a thunderstorm but I had relaxed a bit. I think the warm water was helping me sweat it out.
"Bryce?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you get me my pajamas? I forgot them."
"Uh, sure."

I slowly got myself out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me. He knocked on the door again. Without thought, I twisted the knob and opened the door. His eyes traveled down me for a moment as he held my pajamas. It then struck me that I was in nothing but a towel.
"Here." He handed them to me.
"Thank you," I muttered.
"Don't worry about the tub, I'll take care of it. I don't want you to hurt yourself." I nodded then bumped the door almost closed. My cheeks felt like they were on fire with embarrassment.

Changing, of course, was a task but I managed. My reflection looked weird. The drugs made my face look different, even made my pajamas sexier in my mind than they were. The bathroom door still being open a crack, I could hear him talking on the other side but I didn't think much of it. We both get calls from family often. My body still felt heavy but my brain was more clear. I had forgotten how beautiful I could be.
"Hey, you okay?" His voice slipped in the hardly open door.
"Yeah." I opened the door.
"You're still wearing makeup." He pointed out. Lethargically, I wiped my hand across my lips. They were sticky and when I looked down at my hand, a raspberry smear appeared.
"Oh."
"Sit, I'll take it off." Doing as I'm told, I sat down on the toilet. "How the hell do I take off makeup?" He grumbled to himself, it made me giggle.
"I have makeup wipes in my room and face wash."
"Okay." He disappeared. Closing my eyes, I leaned back. My mind played the recent memories of Bryson carrying me over and over in my head. I could have kissed him if I wanted. Shaking my head, I tossed that thought out. I can't think about him like that, the drugs made it easy to. A crinkling noise and a hollow thud made my eyes open. Bryson was back with both things I advised him of. "What first?" I giggled again.
"Face wipes that face wash." He grabbed a wet wipe and kneeled in front of me. His free hand rested on my knee. My heart jumped. I was afraid of how close we are that he could hear my heart slamming in my chest. Gently, he went around my face, erasing all the makeup I put on. My eyes stayed trained on his face. His expression was soft but I knew more was layered in there. Having almost lost him, I could sympathize to a degree, even if these are different crimes, we were both a victim. "I should have listened to you." My voice was low. He stopped wiping my cheek.
"I thought he would string you along for a few months at a worst-case scenario. Never in my life did I think he would try to hurt you like this."
"I feel stupid," I admitted.
"You're not stupid, he's just disgusting," Bryson assured me.
"I'm not cut out to date." I shook my head.
"That's not true, Rene. You are loved by so many. Who knows, maybe the right person is in plain sight." He went back to wiping the makeup off my face. Is that him admitting his feelings? No, that could never be it. Maybe he was referring to Dustin. "Close your eyes," Bryson instructed lightly. He was gentle around my eyes. It felt nice, it was almost like being pampered. "Uh, lips?" I puckered. A moment lapsed. I was about to open my eyes when I felt the makeup wipe again.

After he had taken off as much makeup as possible, Bryson threw away the wipe. My heart was hammering in my chest from his hand on my knee slowly moving to mid-thigh and his finger under my chin, moving my face. Otherwise, I'll blame the drugs and kiss him. For a moment I pondered that idea. Kissing him and blaming the drugs. What if it makes it awkward between us because he's sober?Even if I kiss him, that would bring neither of us any good.
"I'll wash my face," I told him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." His close proximity was making me tempted.
"Okay." Awkwardly he left the bathroom. Standing up, I looked at my reflection. That was the person I was used to seeing every day. Getting my hands wet, I put my face wash in my hands, emulsified the soap, and washed my face.

In the living room, I crawled onto Bryson's lap taking up the rest of couch. He was watching some stupid show he loved to binge. Naked and afraid. Men watch the dumbest stuff. That's just one of the many shows I don't understand the point of.
"What do you want to watch?"
"Nothing. I just want to lay here." He gently started to run his fingers through my hair, I wanted to purr like a cat.

It wasn't long until I fell asleep. Being high on whatever was in my system made me so tired, it was like a tranquilizer. Bryson scooped me up and carried me to my room.  That caused me to wake up again but I pretended not to. He kissed my forehead and whispered to me;
"I promise I will never let anything happen to you." I wanted to pull him to me, make him stay, but I couldn't move. I was still too high and too tired. The door quietly closed behind him, within moments I was fully asleep.

Noises from the kitchen woke me again. I wasn't nearly as drugged at this point, just more tired than anything. Stumbling out of bed, I peeked through the crack in my door. Bryson had cleaned up and went back to his room.

I stood in his doorway, watching him put things away. He had gotten into a better habit of tidying up since we started living together. He sat on his bed and looked up.
"Rene." I startled him. "Are you okay?" I nodded.
"Can I sleep in here?" He pulled the blanket back and I crawled into the free side of his bed. Bryson laid down next to me after he turned off the lights. Afraid I was going to miss something, I opened my eyes. Bryson closed his eyes and faced me. I studied his face. He had long, dark eyelashes and a slight flush on his cheeks. This was the person who saved me tonight. What would I do without him? And to think I almost did lose him. As if he has a sixth sense, he opened his eyes. We stared at each other for a moment, our faces only a few inches apart.
"Why are people so awful?" My voice broke as tears escaped my eyes.
"Hey." He whispered, putting his arm on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. "Nothing bad will happen to you when I'm around."
"And who's going to protect you?" My voice was muffled by his shoulder.
"You protect me and I protect you, that's all we ever need. Each other." Not being able to hold it in, I fully broke down into tears.

******

The next morning I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. For a moment, I forgot I slept in Bryson's room the night before.

Bryson was in the kitchen making breakfast when I walked in. He beamed at me when I sat down.
"How are you feeling?"
"Not as good as you." I teased. He rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'm feeling better." He placed a mug of coffee in front of me. Our eyes connected.
"Seriously."
"Seriously, I'm okay. I feel a lot better, thank you." He nodded and let go of my coffee. "I hope he gets kidney stones daily," I grumbled under my breath. Bryson chuckled.
"How are you physically feeling?"
"I'm just groggy but I'm okay."
"Do you need anything?"
"No, but do you want to play some Mario cart?" I just wanted to not think about anything really.
"After breakfast, sure." I smiled.

Playing Mario Cart did help, it got my mind off of last night. But when your mind isn't one place. It's somewhere else. An image of Delilah leaning on Bryson popped into my head. I was breaking my own heart.
"Delilah hasn't been over in a while." I casually slid into the conversation.
"Oh, we aren't together anymore." He shrugged.
"Why not?" I asked instead of doing a happy dance.
"She couldn't handle the fact that we lived together."
"Why, it's not like anything is going to happen." I snorted. Bryson looked at me for a moment.
"Yeah. I know." Then he looked back to our game. Maybe I'm not designed to date anyone but him. Shaking my head, I quickly let go of that thought.