Promethea high: Re: My brain hurts...
Laurent’s face fell into the pillow, ignoring everything around him.  The bed across the room shook when the sleeping teen in it woke up.  ”Laurent, is that you?” he mumbled, getting up and scratching his head, his ear facing the adjacent bed.  Laurent mumbled into the pillow, raising his head to his sister going “I dun wanna sknjhds…yeah…”  Isaiah stayed upright listening to Laurent, confusion raked upon his face.  Then he heard a woman’s voice.  ”Who’d you bring back with you?  Better not fuck in the room Laurent.  Wait for me to leave.” Isaiah said, turning so his legs were hanging off the bed. Â
He hadn’t a clue who the other person was in the room but he wasn’t about to try and sleep through drunken horny teenage love making.  He slipped on some slippers, grabbing a pillow and blanket.  He fully intended on leaving the two alone. “No seeeeeeeeeex….” whined Laurent as he turned over, reaching for the waste basket.  He laid there, nothing happening but knowing it would come soon.  Soon came quicker than he thought, interrupting his sentence “She my fucki-“Â
Isaiah winced, disgusted by the sound of Laurent loosing more chunks.  ”Jesus mate, you’re fuckin piss drunk.”
When his feet were free of shoes Tzeffy searched for the waist basket, which Laurent found before she could. She sat up abruptly when his roommate made himself known, ready to kick him out, or whatever need be before Laurent started heaving again. Her face contorted and she gently patted his back with a sigh. The smell was awful, but she kept reminding herself how much she loved her brother more than the smell of fresh air…
“I’m his sister,” Tzeffy finished for Laurent, looking pointedly at the other boy who was intent on leaving. She hadn’t fully noticed why Isaiah wasn’t staring directly at either of them, but she chalked that up to it being dark. “And I’m going to stay to here to make sure Laurent is still alive in the morning. Sans tattoos, piercings, shaved hair, or crude dick drawings on his face.”
She moved to grab one of the towels they had hanging on the wall for the showers, pushing her brother back against the pillows so she could wipe the vomit from his face. “Or that he drowns in his own bile.”
