Chapter 8

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A sharp wave of pain strikes me as I open my eyes, making my head feel like it is about to explode. I quickly shut my eyes again, but its no use, the pain is persistent on staying. I let out a deep sigh before trying once again to open my eyes, successfully this time. Looking around the room, it takes me a minute to recognize the pale walls and wood floors. I'm at Ross's place. Again.

Sighing, I force myself out of the bed and onto the hard floor, nearly tripping myself on a balled up sock casually tossed onto the ground. As I walk to the door, my heart starts to beat faster, and my stomach drops. I really do need to go see a doctor, don't I? I open the door, a wave of deja vu flooding my body. This is exactly a repeat of last night. I grin to myself as I walk down the hall and open the door to Ross's living room, laughing a bit at the sight in front of me.

The room is full of papers, spread out all over the floor. About five or so highlighters are scattered around in various places, and two pairs of scissors lay side by side on the coffee table. A stapler is balanced the lamp shade, dangling precariously over the side. Pillows are spread out all across the room, and along with the papers completely block the floor from sight.

Right in the middle of this mess is Ross, sprawled out on the floor, fast asleep. In one of his hands he has a pencil, on the other he is resting his head. A blanket is messily draped over his back, most of it balled up on the floor besides him. His computer is open, laying at his side, with about what seems to be the equivalent of two reams of paper stacked on top of the keyboard.

I shake my head. What was he trying to do, everybody at the office's paperwork? As I continue to laugh to myself, a small breeze makes its way up my back, making me shiver. His windows must have a draft. I glance down at Ross again, noticing the oddly placed blanket. Smiling, I walk over to where he is lying, which is made extremely difficult by the sheer amounts of paperwork on the floor, and kneel down besides him. I grab the ends of the blanket, and am about to pull it over his shoulders, when I notice the roughness of it. The ends of the blanket are torn, and small holes are scattered along the fabric, making it extremely scratchy.

I let out a deep sigh, and before I can even think about it, I get up and walk back to Ross's bedroom. Tearing the comforter off his bed, I drag it out into the hallway. As I turn the corner to the living room, the end of the comforter catches on a corner, tearing a small hole in the middle of it. I let the blanket go and throw my hands into the air, almost making myself laugh at how ridiculous this all is.

Suddenly, I hear a small shuffling sound from the living room, and as I peak in to see what the source of the noise was, I see Ross's body tossing and turning in his sleep. No wonder why, he's cold from the drafty windows. I clench my hands up into a tight ball, before groaning and trudging past him into the kitchen. Once I'm there, I fling open his supply cabinet and try desperately to look for a needle and thread. After about five minutes of grunting and shuffling things around in the dark, I finally found a needle and a small bit of white thread.

Grabbing the items, I walk back into the hallway to where the comforter is, and kneel down on the floor. Looking for the tear, I eventually find it, and keep my eye on it as I desperately try to thread the string through the tiny hole in the needle I found. After struggling for a bit, I finally finish threading the needle and tie a knot in the end to keep it there. Now comes the hard part, actually sewing this together.

I was never taught how to sew anything, but it always seemed like it would be easy. I regret ever thinking that as I look down at the comforter, which is extremely difficult to see without any lights on, and jam the needle into it, pricking my finger in the process. I sigh. This is going to take a while.

After about a half hour of crooked stitches and pricked fingers, I look down at the comforter. It's not perfect, but it's close enough to its original state that it really shouldn't make any difference. Carefully taking the comforter in my hands, as to not rip it this time, I bring it around the corner and into the living room. Lifting up the scratchy blanket off of Ross's back, I drop the comforter on top of him and drape it over his shoulders, smiling as he stops turning in his sleep and a small smile forms on his face.

I look down at the scratchy blanket and sigh. Guess that's what I'l be sleeping in tonight. Grabbing the blanket, I drag it down the hallway, not really caring if it gets one more hole in it. On my way back to Ross's bedroom, I pick up the thread and needle, and bump open the door with my side, as I now have no free hands. Tossing the needle and thread carelessly onto the bedside table, I lay down on the bead and pull the tattered blanket over my shoulders.

"Great, just great" I think aloud, but in my head I don't feel that bad at all.


A/N - Cue the heavenly music, I finally updated! Okay, so its not that big of a deal, but still. I really hope you liked this chapter! I made it a bit longer to make up for all of the updates I missed, so I hope that it turned out okay. I just wanted to thank you again for the amazing amount of support this book has gotten. 2.6k reads?! That's amazing, and I know I've said it before, but I really do mean it, thank you so much for continuing to read my stuff! See you in the next chapter! :)

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