Your Love is Killing Me

Part 21

I open my eyes to an annoying series of sound ringing from somewhere beside me. I let out a hoarse grunt while my hand absentmindedly roams through the night stand by my bed. Shit. Is it alarm? Who did set it? I never used alarm to wake up. I hold the biggest hatred towards it because it serves the worst kind of waking up experience. Exactly just like right now. My head is pounding violently as if it can no longer contain my brain inside.

I open and close my eyes repeatedly for a clearer view since a mere blurry image is all I can see since the first time I open my eyes this morning. It is when my hand touches something on the night stand. I take and bring it closer to my face to take a better look. The device is still ringing in my hand. A cellphone, with an alarm set on 5 AM. What the f*ck? I throw the thing across the room without any further thinking. The cellphone stops ringing after a little crashing sound heard. It was probably hitting the wall and broken, but I don't know for sure. I have no intention finding it out either considering the room is still poorly lighted. The faint gleam of full moon that pierces through the veil-curtained window is being the only available light source. It is freaking 5 AM, for God sake.

I proceed to get myself back to a peaceful slumber until I hear a soft groan sounding beside me. My hand reach out to that opposite side of the bed and find a figure laying just right there, beside me. Hastily, I bring my self up into sitting position and hit the power button of the night stand lamp. A second after, the said lamp bursts its yellowish ray to all direction. Not bright enough to light up the whole room to its every corner, but enough to reveal everything on my bed. There laying on his side a figure of a boy around my age with dark brown hair and slightly tan skin. I can't tell if it's truly tan or just an effect from the poor lighting. But I can surely tell that he is not ugly.

He groans again and shifts under the blanket until his upper chest area is exposed. He doesn't wear any shirt. Is he naked? I rip the blanket off of him and take in the sight of dry traces of white thing smearing on his flat stomach down to his crotch. At that moment, I finally realize that I, myself, is actually naked as well. The sudden cold I cause by depriving his blanket makes the boy curl up his body.

"Wake up." I tap his thigh a few times and shake his body until he finally opens his eyes.

"What's up?" His question sounds like a mumble to me. He struggles to make his eyes stay open. And in a slow movement, he is getting up to sit on the bed.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" I ask him in a demanding tone.

Now his fully opened eyes are staring right at me. "What do you mean? You just f*cked me last night." He looks annoyed.

Damn. Was I drunk last night? Alright, I think I recall going to a club after having dinner together with Louis and his family. I drank a bit too much last night to celebrate myself. Then I met a boy and brought him home.

"Oh, shit."

"What?" He ask.

"Did I use protections?"

He looks taken a back by my question but answers anyway. "Yes, you did."

I sigh from relief. "Good, because I can't run the risk of catching any disease from some random whores."