Game Theory × NH

024 | chromium

× Horan

I was drunk and Lynn looked so fucking good in my clothes.

I couldn't stay asleep, not knowing that she was sleeping in my bed just a few feet away. That wasn't something I did often... actually, never. I have never done that before. If there was ever a girl sleeping in my bed I was always right next to her.

It was three thirty in the morning and I had woken up twice since we both fell asleep. I was on my stomach, leaning over the side of James' bunk, looking down at her. She must have gotten warm sometime during the night because she was on her back with one leg sticking out on top of the duvet.

I was a man of science; I needed answers and logical explanations. But the things this fucking girl was making me feel - making me do - was so out of my control, so foreign, so... not me, that I was going to lose my self-control one of these times. Scratch that, I already had with that kiss.

But I liked seeing her in my clothes. They were big on her as expected, but they just fit so right. She was wearing my favorite shirt, the FAI jersey with the Ireland crest on the front with the large number 33. The neck hole had slid to one side and exposed some of her right shoulder. The bottom hem was pushed up slightly over her stomach and the legs of the boxers were riding up her thighs. I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, not because I had noticed her black one next to the door with the rest of her wet clothes, but because I could... see.

The simple thought of her just being in my bed, wearing my clothes, getting her smell all over my things drove me completely out of my fucking mind.

Lynn moaned in her sleep then and rolled over, her back to me. She kicked at the duvet tangled around her legs like she was trapped inside a box and needed to get out. I understood that feeling. I felt that same way only a few hours ago in a small, cluttered room. Then Lynn turned again so she was facing me and the look on her face told me that she wasn't having a pleasant dream.

I stayed where I was knowing it was never wise to wake someone from a nightmare. But as she continued to thrash and turn, I got worried she might hit her head on the headboard and hurt herself.

Suddenly sobered up and without hesitation, I was climbing down the ladder and striding over to her. At first glance I noticed that Lynn was burning up like she just broke a fever; her clothes sticking to her skin and hair plastered down on her cheeks and forehead.

Pulling the blankets off, I called her name, but to no avail.

She started to toss and turn again so I did what my brother used to do with me when I had nightmares when I was a kid - I crawled on the bed with her, planting my legs around her hips and grabbing her face to force her to stay still.

"Mercury!"

Suddenly, her arms were in the air and were grabbing at anything she could get her hands on. Unfortunately, anything happened to be my face as her nails made contact with my skin.

"Ow, fuck. For Christ sakes, Lynn!" I shouted again, the pain from her scratch burning my cheek. "Wake the fuck-"

Before I could finish, Lynn's knee bucked up and hit me in the groin. I doubled over at the waist and cursed loudly, clutching my crotch. I've been hit in the balls before - that was always a downfall playing football - but nothing truly hurt as much as a knee coming up and hitting you in the goods when you least expected it.