I fall asleep with that stupid smile on my face, my arm around Gemme. The sex was a very good way to start a new life in a new town in a new house. It certainly made me feel better about being somewhere I don't know. Even if the town and the things in it are exactly the same as where we were before, but with more bender bikers.
When I wake up, I don't open my eyes. I'm still tired. That and I'm thinking that I should probably be concerned that the first thing on my mind as I wake up is drugs. I'm not, but I figure I probably should be. I'm wondering whether I should go looking for a Si type person today or if I should leave it a while.
Eventually, I just open my eyes and figure that I'll work out what to do later.
"Hey," Gemme says. I blink and rub my eyes, dislodging the sleep grit and half smile, my muscles not really obeying me just yet.
"Hi," I reply, my voice sleepy.
"So, how you feeling about these new beginnings?" she laughs. I wonder why she bothers asking, sometimes. It's not like she needs me to say it aloud.
"Heh, I'd say you're welcome but I should be thanking you." She smiles. I feel one of my eyebrows lift a little, doing its own thing as usual. My body seems to be disobeying me a lot more than usual recently. Which is weird, because I've been sober a lot more recently.
"Why's that?" I mumble, trying to ignore the urge to get up and take something - anything. Stupid brain. I heal away the physical need, but just as before, the mental one doesn't fade. Maybe sex wasn't quite enough to settle me in after all.
"Did you forget last night already?"
"No..." but that doesn't really explain why she should be thanking me.
"Well, you umm... really tired me out." Still dodging around just saying. Cute. But at least I get it now. My mouth forms a little circle as I go "oh" silently, understanding, then I smile.
"No problem," I mutter.
"No problem?" She laughs. "Sorry, so any plans for today?" I shrug.
"Not really," I lie, "you?"
"I was going to paint." She answers and I half nod, the movement stopped by the fact that there's a pillow in the way.
"Paint what?" Please not me again.
"You." Fuck. I roll onto my back and close my eyes, groaning in complaint at the ceiling. I feel a bit bad about that, but really, you think I'm gonna make a good subject all drugged up? No.
"You already have loads of me."
"Fine I'll paint Ben." She huffs and I can't help but laugh.
"Ben? He's back at home - I mean Cameron." Weird. Cameron's been home for ages. Newberry's home now, keep it in mind, Luca, you idiot. Well, I would if my mind wasn't busy trying to keep my addictions from making me tear downstairs and get something to sate the cravings.
"I paint from memory; I only have you sit for me because I enjoy your company," she tells me and I shrug.
"Up to you. I need a shower, sorry," I mutter, sitting up and swinging my legs out of the bed.
"Okay," Gemme agrees as I pull on my boxers. I know, I don't usually care, but this house is huge and I have no idea where the bathroom is. Also, I don't think either of us stopped to close the curtains last night. I don't think to ask for a towel, I just go downstairs to get my bag that has my clean shirt in it, and start looking for the bathroom.
It doesn't take too long to find, actually, and when I get in there, I lock the door, have a quick shower and when I get out, I dress even faster, eager to get rid of the cravings. It's now that I begin to regret not caring about how much I took and how often, because it meant I was high about 80% of the time. There was no room for cravings. I've not left it so long between hits before and fucking hell, it's going to drive me crazy.
I spread out the drugs I have with me on the counter, using an old razor I keep for preparing coke lines to cut together a mix of weed, tobacco and heroin, rolling it all up in a cigarette paper with an ease that I realise now has come from too much practice. I set it on the side and clear up my stuff, sweeping away the traces of drugs on the surface before leaving the bathroom. I know the fact that it looks like a cigarette won't fool Gemme, but at least I'm not sitting in the corner with a needle in my arm crying my eyes out, eh?