11:11

Forty-Eight

I wake up with some shuffling on the other end of the couch and then the sound of footsteps scrambling away from me. I open my eyes slowly, still half asleep. I catch Juan's body running into the bathroom. Today is not going to be a fun day for him.

I shake my head as I contemplate going into the bathroom to check on him or staying under these warm and comfy sheets. I roll my eyes as I peel the sheets off of my body. He'd probably be sitting there next to me, rubbing my back if I were in his place. Sleepily, I stumble towards the bathroom. Before I even reach the bathroom, Juan's hurls can be heard. I slowly walk into the bathroom. His arms are wrapped around the toilet, a miserable look on his face. He looks over at me and shakes his head. I crouch down behind him, slowly beginning to rub his back. "How you feeling?" I ask.

"Not the b—" the projectile vomit just continues. I look away, but still continue rubbing his back. Throwing up is my worst nightmare. I get panic attacks just from the slightest nausea. The fact that I'm sitting here, listening to Juan throw up proves how much I care about him. After a few more minutes we both stand up. "I'm gonna go take a shower." Juan says groggily, walking past me.

***

I'm sitting at the foot of Juan's bed with a cold glass of water in my hands when he walks out of the bathroom. "Hey." I smile
awkwardly. He's in nothing but a pair of briefs and I'm really trying not to pay too much attention to it. I stand, making my way towards him. "This is for you." I hand him the cold glass. "I figured you might want something refreshing to drink right now."

He smiles down at the glass, taking it. "Thanks. That's very thoughtful of you." he takes a long gulp, almost finishing the glass. He walks over to one of his side tables and sets the glass down. My heart begins to beat faster when he begins to walk towards his closet, to pick something out to wear I'm assuming. He stops at the door way, his whole body tenses up.

I speed walk over to him, placing my hand on his bicep. "You could just lay in bed like this for a while, it might be more comfortable." I hate the fact that my voice comes out shaky, scared. I know he would never lay a hand on me, but seeing how he was last night, it still had me shaken up. I just don't want to set him off right now, I know he's probably feeling vulnerable right now.

He nods, not looking away from the mess that has become his closet. "Yeah, okay." he says through a clenched jaw.

We both walk back to his bed awkwardly, Juan pulling back the sheets and me sitting on the very edge, not sure what to do. Im startled when Juan's chuckle breaks the silence. "You know you can come lay with me instead of sitting on the very edge like that, right?" he pulls back the other side of the sheets, patting the spot next to him.

I roll my eyes, smiling. "Fine." I crawl over to him.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry."

I blink in confusion at him. "For what exactly?"

"I was a complete ass last night from what I can remember, I was angry and I didn't know how to control it, I'm sorry. And thank you for being here for me right now.  If you weren't here with me I would probably be halfway through another bottle  by now." he reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a light squeeze. I look down at his hand, it's bruised badly and is covered in dried bloody scabs.

I lightly caress his knuckles with my free hand. "How's your hand?" I ask, laughing.

"It's been better." he shrugs, looking down at it.

I laugh quietly, rolling my eyes. "You deserve it, you idiot."

"I know..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry you had to see me that way."

"I am too." I confess shrugging. "You really had me scared for a little. I didn't know what to do."

"What did you do exactly? All I can remember is punching the wall multiple times like the fucking idiot that I am." he shakes his head in embarrassment.

I gulp loudly. "Well...as scared as I was, when you started punching the wall, I didn't want you getting any more hurt then you already were so I kinda just stepped in front of you."

He let's go of my hand, his eyes doubling in size. "You did what?!" he shakes his head. "Did I hurt you? Why would you do that?!" the frustration is clear in his voice.

I quickly shake my head. "No, you didn't hurt me." I shrug. "I figured if anything were to stop you, it would be me standing in front of you. And it did. Thank god it did, your hand could've ended up more then just bruised."

"I was drunk out of my mind, what if I had hurt you?" his gaze is guilty and sad. "I'm so sorry, I should have never put you in that position, I-I was just—" I shake my head, feeling him begin to spiral. I cup his face in my hands, causing him to stop.

"Juan, I get it. You were hurt and angry and I can't blame you for it. I might've reacted the same way if I were you, I don't know. Don't apologize." I shrug. "I'm here for you if you want to talk about it." I move my thumbs side to side, enjoying the feeling of his beard under my finger tips.

His lips turn from a somber frown to a small grin. "You're awesome, Cami." I feel my heart beating faster when his gaze lands on my lips.

His lips are parted ever so slightly, making my mouth go dry. He's leaning in and before I even know it, so am I. Our lips touch gently, and all of last nights worries go out the window.

A/n
Again, I am so sorry this took me so long to get out! My motivation for this story has almost gone away completely, but I know all of you really enjoy it, so I'm gonna keep on pushing! Hopefully my motivation for this story kicks in soon. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!