Page 41 of Until The Lights Go Out

I realized that I had fully chewed my lip raw, my cheesy puffs were demolished and gone, and I was significantly more sober than I had been a few minutes ago. That, and I was in Theo’s room. His private room. On his bed, in my pajamas, and unable to access my own space.

“What about those connecting doors?” I asked, jumping up and running over to the far end of the suite. “Maybe there’s a hidden one or something!”

“There’s no door.”

“But maybe⁠—”

“No, Maisey.”

I deflated at his tone, knowing he was now actually upset and not the fake bravado kind from earlier. I sat down on the small chair in the attached room and looked around, noticing that there was no couch or any large furniture other than the rather uncomfortable one I was sitting in. Another sat parallel to me, mocking me with its shiny plastic. Maybe if I got the right angle, I could sleep here, or the floor. The floor was fine. A bang and a curse jolted me out of my thought spiral, and I sprang up, following the noise to the bathroom. Where Theo was holding his knee and cursing under his breath.

“You okay?”

“Fucking dandy.”

“Could I maybe sleep here? I don’t know anyone else, and since they won’t let me get another card without ID… I mean I can probably talk to someone on PitSpark management or Kaz’s team in the morning. I can squish those chairs together and make a bed maybe…” We both looked over to the plastic, weirdly-shaped chairs. “Or, uh—the floor… I’m sure there are extra pillows or linens around here…” I started opening cabinets around us before wandering back into the room and trying any drawer or cabinet I saw in there too.

“Maisey,” Theo called out as I opened and closed and opened and closed. “Maisey.” Another beat of silence stretched between us as I looked around. “Fucking hell, Red.” His voice raised enough to make me look up at him, one brow quirked up. “You’re not sleeping on the bloody floor, or those damned chairs.” He scrubbed a hand down his face again before crossing his arms and jutting his chin over to the bed. “Take the bed.”

“No!” I shouted back, shocking us both.

“I’ll sleep on the ground, just take the damn bed Maisey.”

“No, no, no. Not happening. You can’t sleep on the ground! What if you mess up your back? Your trainer would be so mad, Seb would be mad. You can’t risk being injured. You have to drive and be ready to be crammed in that seat, and if anything was pulled or strained or⁠—”

“Maisey.” Theo had stepped up to me while I had rambled on and on, only a breath away now.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Your body is worth millions. No one cares about my back, but yours is too important!” I continued on, my rant making me feel out of breath. That, or the fact that Theo was right in front of me and a single bed loomed in the room, taunting me.

“I care,” he grunted out.

I paused, a bit shocked and unsure if I heard him right. “What?”

“Nothing, just…” He paused again as if a million thoughts crossed his mind, but no words could come out. “Fine, let’s just share. It’s a big bed. We are both adults.”

“Share…” I looked to him, then the bed, all my thoughts jumbling and freezing and skittering together into one giant mess. I realized somewhere between the rambling and the lack of ability to process Theo’s last sentence that I was slightly stupefied and maybe not as sober as I had previously thought. Suddenly, I felt like the world was spinning despite my feet being firmly planned on the ground and not in the air over Theo’s shoulder. Somehow I felt the color drain from my face and watched Theo’s own face turn to worry.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I rushed out before running to the bathroom as fast as I could. Logically I knew the distance wasn’t far, but it felt like miles to make it to the toilet.

I gasped and gagged, tears running down my cheeks, trying to get air in to mentally talk myself out of the waves of nausea.

Another wave rose up, and I was turning again to the toilet when I realized Theo was on his knees beside me, one hand holding my hair and the other rubbing circles on my back.

“It’s okay, just breathe through it,” he whispered gently as I took in more air. “You’re okay.” His voice was so soft and soothing, so similar to many nights we spent sneaking out under the stars and sharing secrets. I let myself drift into the memories, letting the warmth and comfort take over.

I don’t know how long I stayed there. Time felt strange—stretching and folding in on itself between breaths and the steady warmth of Theo’s hand against my back. The cool porcelain pressed into my palms, grounding me while everything else spun with soft, hazy edges.

“It’s okay,” he murmured again, quieter this time. “You’re alright.”

I nodded weakly, focusing on the rhythm of his voice more than the nausea still rolling through me. It was familiar in a way that knocked the air from my lungs all over again.

Eventually, the worst of it passed. My breathing evened out, the tightness in my chest loosened, and I slumped back slightly on my heels.

“I’m…never drinking again,” I rasped.

There was a soft huff of laughter behind me. “Heard that one before.”