Chapter 17: Left Behind

                                    

                                          
There was a storm rumbling outside by the time daylight touched Des Moines, small flashes of lights could be seen through the cracks between the boarded windows. The rain pelting the windows and worn building, lashing and hissing.
                          
Corey was stirring in his sleep now; the sheets had been tossed off him as he had done it in the wake of the night. And, eventually, he felt his mind wake up, but kept his eyes closed, almost too afraid of waking up to wherever he was dumped off now. His body felt filthy, grimy, but he didn't care. He shifted, curling up in the foetal position and grabbed onto his skull, his brain screaming at him, his mind pounded so loudly, like war drums.
                          
Soon, he let out a pathetic whimper of pain when he realised, he couldn't sleep anymore. Slowly sitting up, he opened his eyes to see...his own room. It was dark, and he was undressed. Having no recollection of what happened last night, he simply assumed he was dreaming of the night out, of the horrors of seeing his girlfriend...
                          
Wearily, Corey blinked and opened his eyes again, staring at the dirty carpet, and remained still.
                          
No...he remembered that part. Jodie had cheated on him and had been doing so for so many times. Everyone had been warning him about her, even Sallie, despite his assumption she was simply jealous...
                          
Fuck...Sal, she probably left me. Probably fucking walked away from me...
                          
A shuddering sigh escaped his nose, another whimper soon followed, and he rubbed his skull in agony, his dreadlocks falling past his shoulders.
                          
A whiff of bread came to his nose, and when he surveyed his surroundings, he noticed a half-crushed baguette in his bed, crumbs everywhere.
                          
He stared at it.
                          
What the fuck...
                          
He decided not to overthink it. The hangover was obliterating him...
                          
He gruffly leaned down over the bed lazily, opening the drawer of the bedside table and began sifting through it, finding no traces of painkillers. He grumbled, reluctantly standing up and stepped towards the door, his mind vacant yet faint, stomach foul and empty.
                          
But when he opened the door of his bedroom, he saw a body sprawled on the sofa, and he genuinely felt tears burning the back of his eyes when he saw Sallie. A small smirk pulled at his lips when he saw her sleeping position. Her top half of her body had fallen down the side of the sofa, now sprawl on the floor, her face planted against the carpet, and her hips and legs were draped over the pillows and cushions, which were pulled by her body and were off the sofa with her. She had destroyed that battered sofa in her sleep, and somehow the scene amused Corey slightly. Even her jeans were pulled down, revealing a little asscrack past her panties.
                          
Fucking idiot...
                          
But it did make him wonder. She was still there, after all this time. After the way he acted and spoke to her, he was very surprised she persisted in staying with him. She must have brought him back home after last night...he vaguely recalled it, only parts that he would rather not recite.
                          
Corey felt a bit awkward in all honesty, having no true experience of a friend willing to stay by his side, even when he was drunk, and after every time he has been such a dick to her. He wasn't used to this treatment, this pure dedication of a friendship with another human. It felt good, really good, but he was also so frightened. She was going to leave him one day, he knew it...
                          
She snored in her sleep, and Corey decided to leave her alone for now, to let her sleep, but not like that. She was clearly exhausted from the amazing night...and yet...
                          
On soundless feet, Corey approached the little woman, crouching down and carefully scooped her up, gathering her arms and legs and lifted her from the floor. She shifted in his arms and murmured something about bread, but he shrugged it off and took her to his room. Kicking the destroyed baguette off the bed with his foot, he gently placed her on his side of the bed.