Light At The End Of My Tunnel

Chapter 23 ♡

Song of the day: Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.

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SETH’S P.O.V.

  Allison is laying on my bed while I lay on the couch directly opposite to her in my room. “You think I over reacted?” She inquires.

I turn my head and look up at her as I gulp down my bitter saliva I have been getting in the past few days. “You mean Tristan?”

Allison hiccups and sighs afterwards, “Who else would I be talking about? Yes! It’s him!”

“I’ve been on about him since I came here.”
  My mom called out to me 20 minutes ago, announcing Allison’s arrival and ever since then, she has been going on and on and on about her beef with Tristan. My ears are literally bleeding from her unnecessary yelling from time to time. She probably had much to drink at that party.

“Where’s my soup?”

She groans as she puts her head in my pillow and asks, “Seriously? Can’t you just act like you care, at least?”

“Are you acting like you care?” I ask back, making dramatic movements at my sick mode laying on the couch.

She sighs, “I don’t know why I am talking this much, or why I yelled at him or said those things I said to him.”

“I think you are drunk. You mentioned going to the bar stand.” I state the obvious and watch her face light up with enjoyment.

“Is this how it feels to be drunk?” She hums and rolls back and forth on the bed like a kid.

I smile, looking at her smile freely, not being moody, sad, disturbed, bothered, worried or even suffocated. She should really get drunk more often. I smile again.

“Shit!” She shouts and her palms fly to her mouth.

“What?” I whine her, thinking she just wants to blurt out whatever she is feeling or thinking at the moment.

“Something is coming up my throat!” She exclaims fast and bring her palms back to her mouth tightly.

“Oh my God!” I bolt up and run to her, grabbing the trash can close by on my way. I quickly give the trash can to her, immediately help her hold her hair up and pat her back at the same time as she empties her stomach into the trash can. This continues for about two minutes or so.

“You should go wash the awkward taste off your mouth. Use my bathroom. It’s over there.” I point at the bathroom’s door and she giggles shyly.
  I’ll love to see more of a drunk Allison. I giggle back at her sarcastically and she frowns before leaving for the bathroom.

“I think I can go home now, I am a bit better.” She informs me.

“It’s late” she adds and gets off the bed with her gown flowing down along.

“I’m really sorry I can’t drive you home”

“It’s really okay. I understand, I was not even expecting you to.  Just get well soon.”

“And about your soup-“

“It was really delicious, you know?” I cut in, shooting a glare her way.

“I’ll make it up to you. Just text me whenever you want me to.” She apologizes and I just nod.

“He’s my favorite cab driver. You will get home safe” I assure her as we both walk out the room.

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It’s a Saturday morning and also the morning the doctor advised I jog around the street.
I jog pass green leaves, trees and pleasant smelling flowers on the pavement in my grey sweat pants and white T-shirt as my feet makes banging sounds each time it comes in contact with the pavement.