LISTEN {H.S.} A.U.

A pair

"How many drinks have I had?" Sylvia groans leaning into the toilet. My hand traces small circles on her back. It has been one hour of just pure projectile vomit.

"Many." I laugh as I lean against the wall while I hold her hair back.

I haven't even changed out of my outside clothes, which is making me feel icky. I have been in these jeans for a bit too long, and I feel my ass sticking to the material. I start to take my socks off, and I kick them to the side.

Harry has been popping in every 5 minutes asking if everything was okay. Every time he comes in, he is slowly transitioning into night time Harry. The first time he just got out of the shower, the second time he had a cup of tea in his hands, and the third time he had his pajamas on.

"Heyyy, is she still throwing up?" His voice comes out as a whisper. Harry turns and looks at me all discombobulated on the floor trying to comfort Sylvia. He snorts and removes his head from the doorway and I hear his laugh outside the door.

"I am going to hurt you." I groan in frustration. Sylvia has fully just passed out on the toilet.

"I am so sorry. You're just laying there." Harry stifles a laugh and coughs to cover himself from laughing.

"Here let me take this." He picks up my socks which are just weed socks that I got from my mom as a birthday gift in High School. He looks at them and shakes his head.

"No, it's okay. I think she is good now." I say trying to reach my socks from him out of embarrassment. But he runs away and laughs. Where did this playfulness come from?

I keep stroking Sylvia's back until I feel her jump from sleeping against the tub. So, she is a jumper. I find sleeping so interesting, how everyone does their own thing or has their own thing even while sleeping. Some people sleep-eat, sleep-walk, talk in their sleep, and some snore. But jumping in your sleep, that is just built a little bit different.

"I brought you some sleeping clothes. I didn't want to go through your stuff so here is some of my own stuff." He lays the clothes on the counter. "Now, I'll take my dear cousin to her room. You have taken care of her all night, it's my turn." He smiles helping her up. Sylvia groans against Harry to slow down but Harry groans back.

I can sense that maybe Harry is getting more comfortable around this stranger his cousin brought home, which is me. Something about being around Harry and Sylvia reminds me of being back home with friends. Home is the home country I came from before I left for New York. I am just genuinely happy that people can get comfortable around me.

I believe that when someone is slowly showing their true colors whether that be negative or positive, they trust you. If they trust you enough to be able to laugh with you and just offer up their effort, it is something I value as a person a lot.

I also hate it when people don't like me, but my therapist and I are working through that.

I get dressed, and I feel the pants almost fit a bit too tight on me. The shorts were a bit above the knee but overall comfortable. I take my bra off, because I'll be damned if I keep it on all night. I feel the tingles of taking it off go through my body. I put on this black pull-over hoodie with the words 'columbia' on them.

It sags almost right over the shorts, showcasing the height difference between Harry and I. I take a small whiff of the sweater's collar, and I close my eyes to take a bit more of the smell in.

Hold on. Let's not do that.

I open my eyes and drop the sweater from my hands. We do not sniff the clothes of people we do not know.