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He wakes with a startled oomph, and hands clutch my back on instinct.
“Wh-what?” he says groggily.
Despite having somehow managed to not crush my already crushed hand, pain rockets through my body, momentarily blackening my vision. A ringing fills my ears, and all I can do is clench my teeth through a strained, pained scream that I bury deep into the pillow.
“Mason?” a confused, sleepy voice says near my ear. “What are you…”
“Hurts,” I manage to grunt. In my good hand, the pill bottle digs grooves into my palm.
“Oh. Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then he’s gently helping me sit up, taking care not to jostle my arm. It hurts like a bitch, but we manage, and I fall back on my ass…
Which just so happens to be on his thighs.
Grimacing, I ignore him and lift the pill bottle, and?—
Fuck.
“Here,” Jeremy says, and I don’t miss how thick, almost strangled his voice is.
I hold up my weight as best I can so I don’t cut off his circulation.
My hand is shaking like a fucking leaf when he pries the bottle from my grip. It takes him a second longer than it should to open, and through the shadows, I can just make out the harsh pale line of his jaw, and the jut of his chin.
“T-two,” I stutter out.
A beat, then, “Sure?”
I nod. “Mhm.”
A second later, a hand finds mine, and two little pills land in the center of my quivering palm.
I immediately toss them into my mouth, swallowing them dry.
“I, uh, I think I drank all the orange juice.”
All I can do is nod, eyes sealing shut.
A long, awkward moment passes, and I try not to squirm. Nor do I miss how eerily still he is beneath me. So still, I could almost imagine it’s not his thighs under my ass, but the mattress.
“Sorry,” I eventually mutter, and go to climb off him.
“S’okay,” he says faintly, wiggling over to give me room.
I grit my teeth, and carefully turn to sit on the mattress, scooting down onto my back. Panting like I just ran a mile, I stare up at the ceiling. Sweat breaks over my skin, and I shiver, though I don’t feel cold.
I feel hot.
Scalding hot.
“Um, Waylon…is he…”
“On the floor next to me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t remember falling asleep.”
