Puking on her was nice of me, considering what she deserves.
I lean back against the headboard, closing my eyes as the ache in my head intensifies.I wish Eloise were here. Just being next to her would make everything better.
The thought barrels to the forefront of my mind, so sudden and violent it makes the room spin—that, or the copious amount of poison pumping through my veins.Time for bed, then.
I place my phone on the nightstand and hit the light, sighing as the room is bathed in comforting darkness. Minutes later, I’m drifting into an alcohol-induced slumber, ready to succumb to the nothingness.
That is, until my phone buzzes.
I tell myself to ignore it—that it can wait until the morning. But a voice in the back of my mind, a nagging sensation in the pit of my gut, tells me to check.
I squint against the light from my screen, my heart leaping to my throat at the message displayed.It’s from Eloise.
Hey.
The room spins, but it’s not from the drink this time. I’m worried my heart will burst from surprise, happiness, or both. My hands are shaking so hard that it takes me three times as long to type out a reply, but eventually, I manage it.
Hi, Eloise. It’s late—is everything okay?
Maybe she’s taking me up on my offer for help. Perhaps she’s in trouble. While I hope it’s not the case, some small part of me is ecstatic at the possibility she would reach out in such a vulnerable moment. Luckily, I don’t have to worry for long.
Everything is fine! I just had a guitar question.
Sorry if I woke you ):
You didn’t. The witching hours are my favorite time to be awake (;
What’s your question, sweet Eloise?
She doesn’t respond for a long while, and I begin to worry I scared her off. But then those dots appear, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Okay, so I didn’t actually have a guitar question… I just couldn’t sleep, and I was bored.
I’ll let you get back to your witching hours!
No. No, she can’t go yet.
You know, forcing two people to be bored is twice as cruel. I could go for some good conversation right now.
So… tell me why you’re still awake?
Are you really not tired?
Wide awake.
Now spill.
…
I will if you do.
I let out a soft chuckle under my breath.
Well, I just got back home from a successful night of irresponsible alcohol consumption. Plus, the night is young. Too early for bed.
Too many thoughts.
I don’t tell her they’re centered around her, or mention how she’s slowly driving me mad. That’s a little too intense for a first-time text convo.
