Chapter 41 - Elliott

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I try to open my eyes but it's bright, too bright. Daylight is slipping through the curtains and I shift back to get away from it.

The movement disturbs a small, soft body pressed against my back and I turn quickly.

Phoebe, with one arm curled under her head and wearing one of my old band t-shirts. Dark shadows and smudged mascara sit under thick lashes and I fight to remember how she got here.

I remember her walking away. I remember some of the drinking. I don't remember how I got home or how she came to be in my bed.

I reach over unsteadily and brush the hair back from her face. Her forehead creases into a frown and her eyes flutter open. "You're awake?" She says with an adorable yawn, sitting up.

"Yes." I reply in a croaky voice.

My throat hurts like I spent all night yelling. Knowing me, I probably did. I can't bring myself to ask her what happened. I'm so afraid of her response.

She gazes back like she knows, like she understands and she sees me. There is pity in her gaze that I hate to see but none of the revulsion I expected.

"The boys called me after they found you and got you home." She says softly, answering my unspoken questions.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, looking away from her in shame.

"You can't do this again." Phoebe says softly, placing a hand on my cheek and turning me back to face her.

"I know." I say with a sniff, wondering if I look as pathetic as I feel.

She shifts round on the bed and places a hand either side of my face, "I'm serious. I can't be worrying that whenever we argue you're going to go off the deep end." She sighs, "You should have told me about this."

"I know. But does the fact you think we might argue in the future mean you're giving me another chance?" I asked hopefully.

She rolled her eyes, "Of course that's the one thing you take from what I said. In answer to your question, yes. I may be pretty good at running away from things normally but I'm not abandoning you." She pauses and looks away, "I think I might really like you."

The confession is so small I strain my ears to hear it and feel the smile on my face grow as she finishes. A memory from last night surfaces and I think I remember her saying she cared about me then too.

"I really like you too." I turn quickly, rolling her so her back is to the bed and leaning in over her.

The room spins and I lean forward, forearms either side of her head and close my eyes.

"Elliott?" she asks after a moment.

I open one eye, "Yes?"

"You really stink of booze and...erm sick." She says apologetically as she wriggles up the bed and away from me.

I sit back upright quickly and immediately regret the movement, "Sorry." I mumble through another wave of sickness.

"It's ok. Let's get you cleaned up."

She's off the bed now, tugging my arm towards the little ensuite bathroom. I stumble after her fighting to not embarrass myself any further.

We stop by the shower cubicle and I can't help but notice the smell of bleach. I squeeze my eyes shut and dimly recall her on her hands and knees cleaning up my sick as I lay, slumped against the door.

"I'm so sorry." I whisper.

"It's ok." She hesitates, "Do you need me to help you get in?"

I picture her undressing me and my body responds. "No thank you." I say quickly attempting to turn my body before she can see.

Her first night in my bed has already been ruined, I'm not ruining that first moment too.

"How much do you remember of last night?" She asks, tugging at her top.

I love that she's wearing something of mine but I have no idea why and I'm guessing I don't want to remember it.

"Ok we can talk about it later, I'll just go and see what I can find us for lunch."

"It's lunchtime?"

"Just after two." She smiles and retreats back to the bedroom, "Shout if you need anything."

The door closes softly behind her and I sag against the wall. What have I done?

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