Escape Route (Decode Sequel)

Chapter Eleven - Losing It.

Lennon.

I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. My head was pounding, I had sweat dripping down my face and my hands were shaking. I rolled off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom in the darkness. My hands slapped against the wall until the light switched on. I sunk down to the floor next to the toilet, without a second to spare my stomach contents were being released back through my mouth into the toilet bowl. My stomach ached painfully and my throat stung with each wretch of my gut. Once I thought it stopped and I could finally relax, it started all over again. 

My head felt weightless on my shoulders, I couldn’t focus my eyes on anything in the room and my neck felt like it could snap easily. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and spat the bile from my mouth into the toilet before I flushed it. 

I sat there for a while with my head in between my knees in an effort to stop the dizziness, I don’t think it helped. I needed a drink desperately but I didn’t trust the water from the taps, no doubt it was what had caused the sickness in the first place. I hadn’t had food poisoning for years, not since I ate a dodgy take away from a place down the road from my old apartment. The establishment was coincidently shut down two weeks later. 

“You alright?” 

I looked up from my curled up position on the damp, questionably dirty floor at Zayn who was stood like a silhouette in the doorway. He looked right as rain, no sweat on his head, no ghostly pale skin and no sign of sickness. Envious didn’t even describe how I felt. 

“How come you’re not sick?” I groaned, clasping my arms tightly around my stomach as a sharp pain shot through me again.

“Iron stomach?” He chuckled as he knelt down in front of me. I moved my head to look him dead in the eye, my eyelids were heavy and tired as I tried to keep them open. He reached his hand out and held it against my forehead, his eyes narrowing as he pondered. “And I’ve eaten many meals made by Niall and Louis, believe me your stomach grows a defence barrier when you’ve been around them long enough.”

“It has to be the water right? Vegetables can’t do this to someone can they?”

“Well they seemed fresh to me, so yeah, I’d take a good guess with the water. Stick to bottles from now on.”

“I would if I could.” I murmured, looking around at the lack of water bottles around us.

“Your temperature is ridiculously high though and your face is almost as white as your hair.”

“Fuck,” I groaned before leaning back over the toilet. 

I expected Zayn to scarper at the first sign of me being sick, but he surprised me and stayed. He crouched back down and rubbed circles on my back as well as pulling what was left of my hair away from my face. 

“Is there anything else life wants to throw at me?” I grumbled into the toilet. “I must have been a right a little shit in my past life to deserve this.”

“You believe in past life and stuff?” Zayn asked interestingly.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.” I heaved my body back against the wall and stared lazily at my legs as I stretched them out in front of me. I ran my sweaty palms through my greasy, dirt filled hair and pulled it around my ears out the way. “Are you scared of what’s going to happen?”

“Of course, I’m human aren’t I?”

“You’re just so… calm.” I sighed heavily and stared lazily at him.

“I’ve learnt it’s better to stay calm than panic.”

“You’ve been in situations like this before?”