fourteen

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𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙬
𝘤 𝘩 𝘢 𝘮 𝘱 𝘢 𝘨 𝘯 𝘦 𝘱 𝘳 𝘰 𝘣 𝘭 𝘦 𝘮 𝘴




























The morning sun stabbed her eyes and before she could flinch a wave of nausea swarmed her throat. With a gasp, Lilith sat up, and she stumbled from the weight across her. Glancing back at the bed for a split second, she raced to the bathroom with a fluttering heart at the sight of the boy under the blanket. Perhaps thinking about waking up under him was the last thing Lilith should have thought as she vomited her hangover away.

Her hands shook as she sat back against the tub behind her, and she stared at the window above. The white natural light cooled the anxiety in her head. She fell asleep with Dream last night, and when she woke up not only were they half dressed, but they both were tangled together under his blanket. Typically Lilith would have freaked out in fear over doing something inappropriate, but she vividly remembered waking up with sweat drenching her clothes. She remembered the fan having never been turned on and the both of them dressed in jeans and hoodies. The alcohol didn't help either.

"Hey." She sucked in a harsh breath at the sound of his rough voice. Dream walked in and collapsed next to her lazily. What time was it anyway? She didn't remember ever seeing such direct sunlight in the bathroom before. She turned to him and watched as his tongue poked through his dry lips and his hand pulled through his tangled hair.

"Hi." She didn't anticipate her voice sounding so scratchy.

"So—Sorry we didn't change. It's so hot."

"It's fine. I had my own clothes I could have changed into." He didn't say anything as her stomach turned again at the thought of heat and sweat and—

She felt his hand on her back when she vomited again. Then Dream sucked in a breath to say something Lilith assumed she didn't want to hear.

"Don't want to hear it—" she gasped and was sick one last time. She heard him sigh.

"Let me get water—"

"It's fine. I'll come, I'm fine now," she reassured him, and he stabilized her as the two stood up.

In the kitchen, her heart warmed at the sight of the streaks of morning sun across the white tiles. The floors all around the house were of white tile—as the usual living in the climate they did—and the white tiled walls in the kitchen sprouted nostalgia in her she had forgotten about long ago. It had been years since she lived in a house like this one; similar to the ones they all grew up in. It had been even longer since she woke up early enough to feel the warm sun in the kitchen. It woke her up better than coffee. That explained her lack of coffee addiction in high school.

"Wanna make breakfast?" He asked as he poured water from the tap filter.

"Sure," she replied and she sipped the glass he handed her. As the two placed ingredients on the island, they talked about things to do for the day. The big stream was the next day, so neither made it a priority to stream, and Dream decided that he would get his editor to finish the video he tried to finish the day prior.

"I'm worried about you." Caught off guard, she stared at him incessantly. His gaze was still on the pancake that cooked in the pan.

"Wha—Why?" When he rose his face and gave her that all knowing stare, her stomach lurched with guilt.

"You know why."

"Clay—"

"I don't want to hear excuses." At that firm tone, she turned away and began to wash dishes at the sink. "You're hurting yourself."

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