𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭.

𝐗𝐋𝐈𝐕

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 44: 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

But never will I ever not wish you well
Though we're not together, God bless you still
It's gonna get better, I know it will
Just hope you know, I still
I'll pray for you, I'll pray for you

𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀
December 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟑:𝟒𝟑 pm

|| Guilt can bring the worst out of people to hide their hand, we're all proof of it ||
— 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀

ఌ

Amerie's eyes squeezed shut, hearing the sounds of him throwing up through his hangover which had gone on all day. She stood on her tippy toes to fish through his cabinets for any form of medication, yet it seemed like all he really had in his home were prescription drugs that weren't prescribed to him at all.

Her stomach turned at the amount of drugs she'd come across, ranging from anything with every single one seeming used at some point. She felt she never took time to understand, or have the opportunity to know just how bad things had gotten when it came to his mental health that was so faltered.

"Finally." She breathed out, once her hands that fished through the cabinets held onto a bottle of Advil.

Amerie peeled away from the cabinets to walk over towards Syre whose head buried in the toilet, letting out all the contents of his empty stomach. She stared into the toilet, making sure she didn't see any blood or anything that was concerning to his health despite the unknown amount of drugs he'd taken and how much alcohol he drowned himself in.

"You need to drink some water." She spoke softly, her hands running circles all along his back out of comfort.

She stared down into his face that slowly raised from the toilet bowl. It was like he completely ignored her presence, because he did. He washed his mouth out at the sink without even a glance in her direction, using both water and mouth wash to gargle with.

He could feel her eyes that followed his every movement, heard her footsteps that followed him out of the bathroom and back to his room where he'd been nearly all day. If it wasn't his room, it was the bathroom throwing up his insides.

He was in pain. Physically, mentally, despite the fact it seemed his emotions were so turned off. He couldn't think, feel, or acknowledge anything that ran through his head because he still had enough running through his system to shut all that off. Most of his life was spent shutting out those emotions, but this time was different. He didn't shut them out, they just weren't there.