Sweetly Yours

Chapter Ten; Sweetly Awake

 Author's Note; another beautiful banner by NattyKat, thank-you so much! :-)

Sweetly Yours

Chapter Ten; Sweetly Awake

I was in that half and half state of mind, where you can never be entirely sure whether you are awake or still far away in the blissful dreamland. My vision was blurred, vague shapes and colours creeping in through the narrow slits of my squinted eyes. I was tired; extremely tired, my muscles aching and my throat dry with thirst. My stomach clenched uncomfortably as I shifted in my horizontal position.

What had happened?

I repeatedly blinked my eyes, slowly adjusting to the bright light of the room I was lying in.

So it was still daylight, at least.

With a forced motion, I wrenched my eyes to open fully, automatically squinting as the bright light hit me with full force, my vision returning to a normal state after a few painful seconds. Unwillingly, I sat up, stretching my arms out in front of me with an exaggerated motion and a little yawn, followed by a tired, exasperated sigh.

After a few seconds, I focussed on my surroundings. I was on the sofa in the lounge, propped on top of a mass pile of pillows. A quick glance at the miniature clock on the gnarled coffee table told me it was only 2pm, so I couldn’t have been asleep—is that what I was, asleep?—for that long, at least.

Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I glanced around, the lounge area was empty, so I looked towards the kitchen area, my eyes zoning in on Kye’s—

“She’s awake!” Kye cried loudly, resembling some sort of manic battle cry, his bored and tired expression shifting into a hyper, happy one, taking a giant, smooth leap off of the breakfast bar he was lounging on and bounding over to me, diving onto the recliner seat with a heavy thud. The recliner groaned at the sudden movement and weight.

Kye opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it again when hurried footsteps sounded closer and closer, the echoing steps sounding incredibly fast and hitting against the floor so hard and flat, that they resembled a stampede.

When the ‘stampede’ rounded the corner and burst into the room dramatically, it turned out to be a delighted looking Mrs Bright, and a rather tired, but still happily hopeful, Jamie. Both sets of eyes zoned on to me, and without missing a beat they had hurried over, leaning down over me.

“Are you alright, dear? Oh, such a shock! Tell me you’re alright!” Mrs Bright cried dramatically, suddenly looking very worried and anxious.

A rather pale Jamie spoke next, and suddenly it struck me what had happened. I’d flipped over that piece of paper—which Jamie had inevitably seen—and I had then gone and fainted.

Oh my gosh, how embarrassing!

 “Hey Far, are you alright?” His words were soft and delicate, rolling out smooth and surprisingly soothing.

Avoid all and any eye contact.

You may have fainted, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to make an idiot out of yourself; all crimson and embarrassed and fumbling around with your words. Buck up and be a big girl.

You can talk to Jamie later. For now, just answer the stupid question for them before they explode with worry.

“I’m . . . fine,” I replied softly, still a little disorientated, “what . . . how . . . ah . . .” I trailed off, unsure of what to say next.