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She sat up with a silent scream. Her body was shaking, coated in sweat. Even the sheets were damp.
Oh God. Oh God.
She was going to throw up. She stumbled out of the bed and raced into the bathroom. She winced as her knees slammed onto the floor. Grabbing the side of the toilet to steady herself, and trying not to think about all the germs that might be present on a toilet in a motel, she vomited.
Her stomach quickly emptied. When the heaving stopped, she sat back on the floor. She was too weak to stand, to even get up and flush the toilet.
Why had she had that dream?
Why now?
She could’ve blamed it on last night. On Loki’s actions bringing up old fears and memories. Only, she’d had these nightmares for over a decade. It was just that they didn’t usually come every night like they had been lately. Since the incident. She sucked in a breath.
Poor, broken sleep. Too much stress. No social life. She knew she’d lost weight. She was having problems eating. Food made her feel nauseous. None of her clothes were fitting right. Her hair was starting to fall out. She was a complete and utter mess.
She drew her legs up to her chest and rested her head against her knees.
Calm down. Calm down.
She dragged herself up. She leaned against the wall until she was certain that her legs would hold her up. Reaching over, she flushed the toilet.
Those pink flamingos had been a terrible idea. Especially, when she had barely eaten yesterday. Turning to the sink, she ran the cold water. She put her wrists under the cool stream, hoping it would help. Then she gathered up handfuls and splashed the water on her face. When her heartbeat had finally slowed, she grabbed a hand towel and patted her face dry.
She didn’t want to look in the mirror. She didn’t want to see her reflection staring back at her.
But she knew she had to.
A James never hid.
So she forced herself to stare into the mirror and winced at the reflection staring back at her. Wide eyes, pale skin, thin face. She was fast approaching gaunt. Fuck. She had to get herself back under control.
You’re a mess.
You’re not allowed to be a mess.
You’re supposed to cope with everything thrown at you. You’re not supposed to fall apart.
Somehow, the pep talk did little to help her precarious state of mind. Why had she come here? What did she think she was going to gain? Did she really come here because of a kiss?
How ridiculous was that?
Except she knew it wasn’t just the kiss. It was because she had no life. Nothing to look forward to. The only thing that had brought her any sort of joy was that kiss.
She’d just wanted some of that back.
Still ridiculous. But understandable.
She moved, turning on the shower and then pulling off her clothes quickly. She jumped in before it had gotten warm. The chill made her shiver then it was soon scorching hot.
Grabbing a cloth, she started scrubbing at her skin angrily. It was the only way to deal with the nightmare. To wash it away. To keep washing until the feel of his hands on her were gone.
But somehow, no matter how much scrubbing she did, the feeling never disappeared.
When she got out, she dried herself off. She was still trembling. This was ridiculous. This was all in her head. None of it was real.
“You’re stronger than this, Georgina. You’re not allowed to fall apart. You’re not supposed to burn out.” She stepped in front of the mirror. All she had to do was confront her demons, then they’d leave, right? There was no point running or hiding. That never worked. Look at her right now. She’d come here, trying to run from them.
But the demons were inside her. So they’d never leave until she confronted them.
