The Side Character ?

Chapter 15 - I hate the sub conscious bitch.

I? Who am I again?

I take a deep breath trying to control my erratic thoughts. He's just standing there and I'm already feeling something I really don't want to describe to our young readers.

Fantastic. The one time I want my life to not be a cliche, it becomes a fucking cheesy cliche.

Luck, please tell me. Just tell me.

What have I done to you?

His eyes are half closed. It's clear that he still hasn't seen me or he would have reacted somehow.

It's then I notice how tired he actually looks.

There are dark bags under his eyes and his cheeks look swollen. Thick sheen of sweat covers his body. His breathing comes in slow pants.

"Uh," he croaks out, his voice sounding more scratchy than usual, "Who are you again?"

Fucking fantastic.

But as I take in his appearance once more, I don't feel turned on.

I feel worried.

Extremely worried.

"Ryder?" I ask concerned, "Are you okay?"

As soon as he hears my voice, it's as if a jolt of electricity passes through his body and he becomes wide awake.

"Allie?" he furrows his eyebrows at me, "Is it seriously you? Are you seriously real?"

I shoot him an amused look, "As real as I can be."

A rampage of emotions flicker in his eyes, one by one.

Shock, disbelief, wonder, guilt, sadness, joy.

I feel as if I can drown in these eyes and still be more happy than I've ever been in my life.

"Are you seriously real? And not some figment of my imagination?" he whispers taking a step towards me.

I gulp and shove the paper bag into his chest, "Yup. And h-here. I just came to give you these. Your homework."

But he makes no move to take them, instead he just stares at me with eyes filled with wonder and guilt.

The task of breathing becomes harder by each minute as he looks at me with those eyes. Those deep blue eyes that hide an ocean of darkest secrets.

I need to get out of here before I do something he's going to hate me for. He's obviously sick and not in his right mind. Or else he would have never be looking at me with those eyes.

Or would he have?

Nope. Not a chance.

But as I glance once more at his disheveled state, the task of leaving becomes more impossible.

I can't leave him here if he has the chance to die because of high fever.

Even if he did behave like shit with me the last time and owes me a lifetime of apology to make up for it.

If he wants to make up for it.

I push the thoughts away and take a step towards him, "You look really sick, are you seriously okay? Where's Carla?"

He seems to snap out of a daze at my question, "Oh? Out? I guess. Maybe"

I throw him an unimpressed look and put the back of my palm on his forehead to check his temperature.

He freezes at my touch.

Hm. Probably the fever, nothing else.

Tingles shoot up and down my arm at the contact but these are the furthest thing on my mind.