Lights. (An AJR fanfic)

Chapter 14

Songs:

Let it die- by Foo Fighters (oops)

Arabella- Arctic Monkeys (oops)

Madness- by Muse (oops)

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I woke up feeling so much worse than when I went to sleep. I felt like the only cure to my stupidity was death, but I was too messed up to even think about it. My head was pounding. My mouth tasted like bile. My thoughts were jumbled and slow, even though I wasn't drunk anymore.

The light hurt like hell.

Jack had left the room sometime in the night, and for some reason I guessed that he was mad at me. We didn't talk much during the pranking and he wasn't acting too fond of me when he found me at that pub.

I wanted to sleep forever, but I felt guilty as he'll for some reason, so I got up and immediately thanked god for sleeping in a bathtub. Because even though my neck and back hurt as much as my head and I was so stiff it hurt to move, I would've ended up puking on jacks floor had I slept in his room.

I barely made it to the toilet when there was a knock at the half opened door and Ryan stepped in.

"Oh my god are you okay?" He asked, worry lacing every word. I couldn't speak but I nodded, pretty much saying how I wasn't okay.

Ryan left only to return with a confused and tired jack.

"I don't know how to handle sick people or girls," he says, pushing jack into the room. By now my throat is raw and burning and I'm sweating and gasping for breath. Being sick is so tiring.

Jack, frowns at me, I think, but I can't see much of him as he kneels down beside me. He holds my hair back and rubs my back, orders Ryan to wet a cloth and then leave the room.

"You're an idiot," he mutters to me when I'm done. Ryan closed the door behind him when he left, which made me grateful because I'm pretty sure he stayed just on the other side of the door. I lean back against the wall beside the toilet and let Jack place the cold cloth on my forehead. It's cold, but refreshing.

"I know," I croak, but my throat feels like sand paper so I don't know if he can hear me. Or understand me.

"Well," he says, and I still don't know if he heard me, "Broadway tonight to punish you,"

I smile, but I can tell Jack is upset. I don't know what from, it was probably something I did, but I can't think and I don't know what to do about it.

I sit there with Jack, half leaning on him half on the wall, for who knows how long, him rewetting and reapplying the face cloth, me doubling over and gagging occasionally.

"Thank you," I say once my voice starts working. I take tiny sips of water from a glass Ryan brought in. He had opened the door and slipped the glass in a few minutes earlier. I had a feeling Ryan didn't like sick people, and he probably didn't know I was hung over and that I wasn't contagious.

"Yeah," Jack sighs. I look up at him, my head resting at his chest.

"You're so tall," I whisper, and I close my eyes. He is tall. All oh the boys are, and I'm not that short, but I feel short when I'm with them. I wonder how Kari felt, because shes four inches shorter than my 5'5 height.

"Thanks," he mutters back. he probably thinks I'm still drunk, but I know I'm not. Just so hungover my thoughts hurt.

"Are you mad?" I ask as a test question. I know he's mad, I just don't know what for. The test is to see how many questions it takes to get the answer out of him.