Pessimist

4 - Book

"Sophia?"

I looked up, blinking out of my trance as I pasted a somewhat convincing smile on my face.

"Hey, what's up? Is the pizza done?" I clicked my phone off and shoved it deep into my pocket, pulling up my legs so I could wrap my arms around them in a somewhat way to comfort myself. My stomach wrapped in knots, the urge to puke up everything I ate raging over my system ten folds.

"Almost..." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "You okay?"

"Yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

My mind traced back to the photo, the way it was taken made my stomach lurch again. The camera wasn't taken from far away, it was taken from across the street. Someone had been following us and I wasn't aware. Someone was following me and I wasn't cautious.

I thought I had more time.

"Can I use your bathroom, please?" I stood up suddenly, bile rising up my throat. Dean nodded, gesturing to me to follow him.

Stopping in front of a door, he opened it revealing a simple grey themed bathroom. I thanked him and shut the door behind me, locking it as I immediately fell to my knees.

The small breakfast that contained an apple retched out of me, my nose and throat burning due to the acid. I felt gross and sickly, my shaky hand pressing on my stomach to force myself to settle.

Resting my forehead against my arm, I breathed steadily in hopes of combating the second wave of gagging I may have to do.

Tears threatened to leave my eyes but I forced them back, blinking heavily as I flushed the toilet. Walking over to the sink, I thoroughly rinsed my mouth before splashing my face with cold water. Droplets dripped off my face as I stared at myself, weak and exhausted at the presence of still not escaping what I thought I did. I breathed in heavily, forcing air down my throat not wanting to panic in my only friend's bathroom.

Once I was cleaned up, I stepped outside and back to the living room.

The smell of pizza was everywhere, my throat hurting all over again as I walked over to where Dean was standing in the kitchen.

"Could I get some water, please?" I cleared my throat, hearing how hoarse it was. "You forgot to give it to me earlier," I clarified so I wouldn't look suspicious.

Dean frowned down at me, his eyes wandering down my body and face like he was going to get answers that way.

When he couldn't, he nodded and filled a glass with cold water, handing it to me with a glimpse of concern. I was still probably sickly pale, however I could easily come up with being nervous.

"Thank you," I murmured, sipping it. Once I downed the glass, I smiled up at him hoping he would forget my earlier reaction.

"Well, are we gonna eat or what?"

"Go sit, I'll bring it out."

I complied, walking back out to the coffee table. Instead of sitting on the couch, I slid so I sat criss-crossed on the floor, my clasped hands on the table.

"What are you doing on the floor, troublemaker?"

I turned towards the voice, confused.

"Sitting on the floor?"

He sighed, his mouth lifting in a shadow of a smile with the tray still in his arms. Walking towards me, he placed a wire rack on the coffee table and then the hot pan on top. I noticed Dean had cut the pizza in even slices making it easier to grab.

Sliding a plate towards me, he put his hands on his hips.

The sight of oven mitts on his hands in that position made a giggle escape my lips. His lips twitched, pulling his mitts off and placing them on the counter as my laughs subsided.