Apanpan - Hindi, noun: having a quality where you accept people, not for anything in return.
Isla's POV
"I think I'll go to sleep now," I said to my mom as we FaceTimed.
"Oh sure, you better be getting at least 8 hours young lady," my mother said sternly.
"Yes, of course mrs.doctor," I teased, rolling my eyes.
"Alright, and put that phone away."
"Mhm, goodnight."
"Goodnight Isla."
'I am definitely not going to bed anytime soon,' I thought to myself as I opened my Instagram. I aimlessly scrolled through my explore page, sending a few memes and videos to the group chat.
@saskia_the_teenage_bitch: Isla shut the fuck up and go to sleep, we have to get up at 6
@linette.conti: damn she's not even talking
Me: Thank u Linette
@saskia_the_teenage_bitch: whatever I'm trying to sleep
Me: just put it on silent...
@linett.conti: she probably doesn't know how to
Saskia stop lying, you're eating Pain au Chocolat rn
Me: Lmao tru tho 😂
The house was oddly silent. It was just me alone in the house. Everyone aside from Elliot and I had gone out on a trip to Bordeaux with the rest of the camp kids. Yet the two of us were left alone. And Elliot ditched me of course, disappearing just as the sun went down. He had been gone for almost 5 hours. It was 1 in the morning and I assumed he would be back by now.
Hesitating, I hovered my thumb over his name on my contact list. He would probably find it weird that I was calling, why was I worrying about him?
I turned off my phone and switched of the lamp, laying against my pillow. I tried to sleep but I was wide awake.
After an hour or so, I huffed in annoyance, flipping my pillow over to the cooler side. I turned my body so I was facing the ceiling and stared at it. Everytime I tried to shut my mind off, TikTok songs circled around in my head.And I don't even have tik tok! I just see them on my Instagram.
Why don't you say so didn't even know it - th-tha-that's my shit, that's my wave - nice to nice to know ya let's do it again, how we did it on a one night stand.
"UGH," I groaned stuffing my face into my pillow. My clock read 3:04 am.
Ok Isla we're going to count sheep.
One, two, three....
Fuck this shit, who the hell came up with this?
I turned, yet again, and lay there looking up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and forced myself to think of a dark screen. Soon, I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I was in that zone, sleep was pulling me in, but I was still somewhat aware of my surrounds. If I thought too much, I would be wide awake again. But that wasn't what woke me up.
Instead, it was my door busting open. A tall figure stumbled into my bedroom as I jumped out of bed, grabbing a hold of whatever item was in reach. That item happened to be a pencil.
What the fuck am I going to do with a pencil???
Ok Isla, stab him in the eye, then break it into two and shove em up his nostrils. That should do it.
I stared in surprise as the intruder stumbled 3 feet before landing on my bed. Then I realized who it was.
Elliott.
"Are you fucking dumb??"
"Huh?" He looked up, very confused. I hurried to turn on the lights so I could figure out why the hell he was in my room.
"Ce n'est pas ma chambre ( This isn't my room)" Elliott mubles, squinting his eyes due to the light. I rounded the bed to stand in front of my balcony. A sharp breath left my lips as I noticed the state he was in.
His lip was bleeding and there was a cut above his eyebrow. A bruise was beginning to form right at his hairline and his eyes were glassy. A sheen of sweat could be seen on his skin.
"(Are you drunk?)"
"Non, mais je suis saoul (no, but I am drunk)," he giggled, standing up. He just giggled, boy is he drunk. I rushed to steady him as he nearly fell over, almost face planting into the floor.
"Putain (Fuck)!" He hissed, flinching back as I put my hand against his chest while the other went around his shoulders.
"Qu'est-ce que tu as fait (what did you do)," I groaned, getting him into the bathroom. Elliot wasn't a small person, he was almost half a foot taller than me and 50 pounds heavier. And he was leaning all his weight on me. I gently led him to the counter and sat him there. His eyelids fluttered while I took out the first aid kit.
"Where else did you hurt yourself?" I asked, cleaning the cut on his eyebrow. He hissed and glared at me through his lashes. Suddenly, he started to take off his shirt.
"Umm, Elliott wha- oh mon dieu."
He removed his black T-shirt to reveal a large cut across his collar bone and a smaller one under his ribs.
"J'sais que j'suis canon (I know I'm hot)," he smirked, still looking very disoriented. I huffed, rolling my eyes. I tried not to make eye contact with him as I quickly cleaned the rest of the cuts on his face. He gazed at me intently as I worked, a dazed look on his face.
I gulped as I moved to work on his collar bone. It took a lot of control to not sneak looks at his abs. His skin glistened from sweat, adding to his... attractiveness. My knees weakened as he flexed in pain every time the alcohol touched his skin. His tan skin was smooth under the tips of my fingers as I worked.
"Puta madre (motherfucker)," he hissed, grabbing my hip in reflex. My mouth formed an O in shock as he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lip. (Well that sounds quite... sexual 😏) I then looked at him surprised at the Spanish curse.
"I'm sorry, almost done."
I quickly cleaned the other cut and the covered it in plaster. His hand still rested on my hip, squeezing every once in a while. I looked up when his hand slowly let go. I was busy focusing on my work, I didn't realize that Elliot had passed out.
Jesus how much did he drink?
He looked so peaceful and a lot younger when he was sleeping. He didn't have a frown etched on his face, and his eyebrows didn't furrow in annoyance. It almost looked like he had a slight smile. I stared at him helplessly.I couldn't move him to my bed, let alone his room. Curse you Elliott for being macho. If he was like Yann, I could at least drag his 5'8 ass to my bed.
I sighed for the 100th time that night and gently pulled his arm through a fresh shirt. I had sneaked into his room and taken a dark grey shirt and a Nike hoodie.
He mumbled something incoherent and I froze, halfway through putting his arm in his sweatshirt. Although it was hot in the summer, the temperature in my bathroom was quite cold. Unfortunately, I had to leave him sitting there until he woke up. But I also couldn't leave him in my bathroom and go to sleep in my bed. I felt bad doing that. So instead, I grabbed my own baby blue hoodie and curled up into a ball on the bathroom carpet- which was brand new by the way. The last thing I saw was Elliott's sleeping figure before I drifted off to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Collecting Polaroids |Slowburn|
Romance"The stars." "What about them?" he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow, stepping closer. I took a step back with every step he took forward. "They're watching over us." He seemed to think about my words before speaking. "Over us? Or you think they're...
