Periwinkle - Life in shades of blue (part 1)

Stupid kids

So kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Oh, who gives a shit about tomorrow?
When you know how lucky we are
Oh, tomorrow worry 'bout tomorrow

Tomorrow by Mika

I don't know who got the idea that drinking was fun. It's not. The hammering pain in the back of my eyes is proof of how stupid I was to think otherwise.

I roll on my stomach, groaning loudly when I realize the room isn't comfortably dark, how I like it to be when I'm sleeping. The ringing in my ears is back, albeit quieter than last night it still reminds me of another wise idea of mine, going to the karaoke with my loud as fuck schoolmates.

I feel gross, sweaty and sticky in the back of my neck, I can smell my own armpits but I wish I couldn't. I stink like I just survived fours hours of combat training with Suguru, plus a hint of something else, something way more revolting than sweat. I raise my head off the pillow when I understand it's puke, my eyes widening despite the uncomfortable sensation of my pupils not being used to the morning sun.

I squint to look around my small room, it looks like a mess. With one hand I try to shield my eyes from the light and get a hold of myself when my head starts spinning around as I try to sit up. Suguru's clothes are on the floor, piled up next to mine, a plastic bag and a couple of empty bottles tossed on the ground somewhere near the tv. I look down to find out that I'm wearing a sweater and a pair of basketball shorts, but I don't recall putting them on. I look back at our uniforms, forgotten on the floor. What the hell happened last night? I remember playing a stupid math game and the taste of sweet wine, but I don't know how I ended up in my bed or in these clothes.

"Oh, you're awake." I turn to the door when it opens to reveal an angelic Suguru, hair tied loosely on the back of his neck and a huge hoodie giving him sweater paws. My hoodie. "Good morning," he offers me a warm smile while sitting down next to me.

I squint, maybe I'm still dreaming? Why does he look like he just had at least 12 hours of sleep after a day at the spa? And why do I feel like a mangy rat instead? "What..." I don't even know what to ask. What happened, maybe? I groan when my headache digs its nails in my skull, throbbing on my temples and making me reach up with my hands to cover my eyes.

A warm hand grabs the back of my head, bringing me forward to rest on Suguru's shoulder. "Have you tried using reverse cursed technique?" His fingers rub circles on the soft hair of the nape of my neck, making me lose any composure and shamefully slump on his chest. He doesn't flinch, even though I know I stink.

"I have," I mumble against the collar of his hoodie. No, wait, my hoodie. Whatever. "Doesn't work if my head is foggy..."

"Aw..." he shuffles a little to reach behind, his hand disappearing in the plastic bag I saw before and reappearing with a tablet of ibuprofen. "Try this. I bought it this morning, it worked for me." He holds out one pill and a bottle of water, I gulp it down unceremoniously and quickly thank him before falling with my head on his lap. He giggles, but doesn't complain and combs his fingers through my greasy hair. Ew.

When I finally process what he just said, I almost snap back up. I bought it this morning. "What time is it?"

"Eleven twenty..." he trails off, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

"Fuck." I force myself to sit up, grimacing at the way my stomach complains and flips over. "Where's my phone?" I try to move slowly when I reach forward to get up to my feet, glad he follows me shortly so that I can hold onto him. He slips my phone in my hand, I don't even need to unlock it to know I must have way too many missed calls because Yaga's name pops up on the screen and I press the green button before it even rings.