Book 3: You Don't Want My Love (Slash FanFic)

Ch. 18: Fake Happy

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

Izzy sauntered into the room, studying me as he passed by on his way to the windows. I squinted against the sunlight as he threw open the curtains, my eyes stinging from the intense glow.

"Fuck! Why?" I groaned, pulling the collar of my jacket up and over my face for protection.

"When was the last time you showered?" Izzy asked with a crinkle in his nose, still focusing his attention on me.

"What're you, my mom?"

"If I was, maybe you wouldn't be smelling as badly as you do right now," he countered with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, finally stealing a peek at him from over my collar. The light still hurt like hell, but it was at least a little more tolerable now that I'd had a chance to adjust to it.

I could see Izzy sitting on the windowsill, fiddling with the latch on one of the windows. Steven-obviously-remained exactly where he was, sleeping soundly in his hospital bed. I had finally started to become accustomed to the scene of him in the hospital room, so it wasn't nearly as jarring as it had been the first few times I'd seen him. Still, it wasn't exactly something I wanted to see first thing in the morning, but I looked anyway. This was my penance for all that I'd done to Steven leading up until this point. If Steven had to be stuck in this hospital room, then so did I.

"You're beginning to grow a beard," Izzy added, motioning to his own chin for emphasis. "Maybe you ought to go home and take care of yourself...?"

I shook my head defiantly. No way was I going back there. Al would be there, and I had no intentions of bumping into her again any time soon. So long as she was at my place watching over Pandora, I would stay right here. And if Steven woke up before then, I'd stay at a hotel or something. Anywhere but home. Anywhere where she wasn't.

"Does this decision have anything to do with that girl from yesterday?" Dammit Izzy. Why did he always have to know fuckin' everything? Sometimes it was useful, but in times like these it was annoying as hell. "Allison, right?"

"Al," I corrected him, actually sounding a lot like Al in the process.

"So it does have to do with her," He mused, another soft smile forming on his lips. Why did he have to look so damn smug?

"No!" I snapped, sounding more defensive than I had meant to. I'd definitely given myself away now.

"Right."

"It doesn't!"

"Sure."

"I mean it, Izzy!"

"Okay."

"Hmph." I crossed my arms over my chest, pouting like a child. This was the last thing I needed. And to think I had been so anxious when Izzy had left me yesterday, and now I couldn't wait for him to leave me alone again.

"So, what's this definitely-not-Allison related issue-"

"Her name is Al," I corrected him again. "Don't try to make her sound more feminine than she actually is."

"Okay. What's this definitely-not-Al related issue that is preventing you from going home and showering?" Izzy corrected himself with a roll of his eyes and a chuckle.

"We used to tour for months at a time. You really think some grime and facial hair is goin' to bother me?" I demanded. "This ain't nothin', man."

"Yeah, well just because it doesn't bother you doesn't mean the rest of us have to suffer," Izzy teased, pinching his nose and grimacing my way. "You keep it up and Steven will wake up from your stench alone."