Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1

8 - Joséphine

I wake up with an unbearable headache. The light assaults my eyes, and my mouth is as dry as paper. I groan before finally managing to get out of bed. The smell of cigarettes permeates the air in my apartment, and I notice that my body is also giving off a faint whiff of alcohol. I glance at the time on my phone: 1 p.m. I must have fallen asleep really late.

With shaky steps, I head for the bathroom to inspect the damage from last night. My dark circles are deep under my tired eyes, my skin has lost its radiance. Without wasting any time, I undress and slip into the shower, letting the scalding water run over my skin. My fingers caress the back of my neck and a few flashbacks of the evening come back to mind: the glasses of booze, the warmth of the fire, the laughter, and especially Shawn's lips.

SHAWN'S LIPS???

Oh, no... no... I really must stop drinking.

Sure, I like him, and he's a good kisser, but I can't let myself go. I have to try to heal my past, not start a new relationship. It's far too soon for me.

I finish my shower and wrap myself in a towel. After putting on a pair of gray jogging pants and a black tank top, I try to push the troubling thoughts of the previous day from my mind. Guilt and fear gnaw at me, and I know that alcohol is not the answer to my inner demons. I hate this feeling of being vulnerable, as if my defenses were broken every time I let myself get drunk.

Then I remember Blake, silently observing my actions on the edge of the sofa. A new wave of embarrassment washes over me as I think back to his arms around me, his gaze scanning my being, then the sharp sound of the door as he leaves. I never thought he'd ever be in my apartment.

I really need to get my life in order.

I take some aspirin to relieve my throbbing headache, and hydrate with a big glass of water. My stomach is still too upset to consider a meal. So I settle down on the sofa, lost in thought, and end up selecting a movie on Netflix, seeking to distract myself and ward off the demons that haunt me.

A knock on my door startles me. I sincerely hope it's not Blake. Please, I'd be so ashamed to see him again after our evening.

I quickly get up from the sofa and head for the entrance.

Phew. It's not Blake but his brother.

"Hi Jo, sorry to bother you..." he starts.

"You're not bothering me at all, come on in," I reassure him, opening the door wider. I move aside to let him through, then close the door behind him. He remains standing in the kitchen, as if hesitating to broach the subject that prompted him to come and see me.

"Did you want something?" I ask, trying to break the ice.

"Uh... yes, I'd like to talk to you," he finally replies, clearly uncomfortable.

My heart is racing in my chest.

"Go on, sit down," I encourage him, pointing to the sofa."Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you," he declines politely, sitting down on the sofa. I sit down next to him, trying to unravel the mystery of his visit. His tired appearance, with his hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes, shows that the evening hasn't been easy for him either.

He takes a slight breath before beginning.

"Last night, I bumped into Blake in the hall, and he looked pretty wound up..."

My heart instantly sinks.

"And he was from your place, so..." he continues, giving me an inquisitive look.

"Yes, uh, I must confess I don't really remember what he was doing at my place. I'm a bit fuzzy on the details of the evening," I admitted with embarrassment.

Clyde stands up, as if reluctant to continue the conversation. I stare at him, trying to read his thoughts. "Look, I don't want to pry into your private life," he resumes gently,"but Blake's my brother and... he's been through some very difficult times and that's why he can be... special."

I feel a weight in my chest at hearing him speak of Blake with concern.

"I don't know what's happened between you two," Clyde continues,"but I'd ask you to be careful. Blake is a special person, but he's also fragile. I don't want him to suffer anymore."

"What do you mean by special?" I asked, eager to know more.

He shakes his head reluctantly. "It's not for me to tell you. The only thing I can tell you is that Blake's been through some tough times, and he's still carrying the scars, that's all."

I can't help wondering about these after-effects and their nature. When he mentions that Blake has suffered, I'm torn between concern and the feeling that I'm no longer alone with my own scars.

Clyde pauses suddenly, as if realizing he's said too much.

He gives me a reassuring smile.

"I just wanted to let you know what had happened."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember," I tell him sincerely."I'll tell you when I have new flashbacks. By the way, I announce that I'm quitting drinking. I'm too much myself when I'm drunk."

Clyde bursts out laughing and heads for the front door. "So... that kiss with Shawn?" he asks, simply turning his head.

I smack the back of his head. He bursts out laughing even harder.

"I like the Joséphine who lets loose a little more. You're frank enough when you're sober, but drunk, it's a treat."

I open the door for her to leave. "Stop talking nonsense and get out of here," I laugh, teasing him.