4am, or thereabouts.
I surreptitiously check my phone. The bright screen makes my eyes wince and squint in the darkened room. It’s 4:38, fuck, I need to get back to sleep. I have class in the morning. A class I’ll probably end up skipping, again. That’s become a bad habit since I’ve been sleeping here more, especially on a Wednesday night. My grades are suffering, typically, and yet I can hardly raise the energy to care.
I let out a sigh I didn’t realise I was holding in. I’m still half drunk and my head gently pulsates from the night before, every week the same, it’s painfully predictable. You could even say boring.
I settle back down into the sheets, phone face down under my pillow, and turn onto my side into the pale light that’s sneaking in through the corners of the blinds. I turn toward the boy that I repeatedly give everything up for.
I rake my eyes over his face, it’s relaxed, and the slow rise and fall of his chest tells me he’s asleep. I bet there’s not a single worry in his mind. His breathing is soft and with his charming features peaceful like this, I can almost pretend. Almost believe in him, in us, in this whole fucking mess.
I stare a moment too long. The slithers of moonlight give away a secret. Cheap glitter covers his face. I snap my eyes shut and squeeze them tight.
I wasn’t wearing any glitter tonight.
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