As soon as Kyle hung up, I wondered if I should've picked up at all. Because eventually my phone would've run out of battery and I wouldn't have had to deal with Phil and Kyle both calling me. Or I could've turned it off. Why didn't I turn it off?
Is Kyle really the one I want to find me?
I almost considered setting them both up to find me and seeing who got here quickest or something, but I already feel like enough of a dick for just walking out on the both of them as it is.
With those thoughts pushed firmly from my mind, I somehow manage to climb up on top of my car and stick my thumb up, hoping someone might pick me up. I don't know how long I stay up there, but I think it's long enough to know no one's gonna bother helping me. I slide down off the roof and sit in the back of the car, ignoring my stomach growling at me. I couldn't walk a few miles even if I was healthy, let alone if I've not eaten for like, three days. As long as all I do is get high and sleep, I should be okay, right?
I can hear someone saying my name somewhere nearby. I'm busy sleeping, can they not see that? "Damien?" they say louder. I try to roll over and ignore them, but all I succeed in doing is falling off the seat. I let out a groan, but whoever's saying my name apparently finds it funny. I stay where I am, ignoring their giggles.
The door's opened and I stretch my legs out, trying to get rid of the cramp in them from where I've been lying there like that for fuck knows how long. Hours, days, what difference does it make?
"You'll hurt your back like that, gorgeous," the voice says as I try to get comfy. They prod my belly, making me whine. All that does is earn me another poke. I open my eyes, looking up at the person responsible for me being on the floor in the first place. Kyle. Kyle found me. He smiles down at me and I manage a small smile back.
He prods me again. "Why're you prodding me?" I ask quietly, my voice all hoarse and nasty.
"Cause you're gonna hurt your back down there." I whine slightly, but he smiles, "You can lie on me, if you want." I'll tell you what I want. I want some fucking food, that's what I want.
"I'm hungry," I complain, attempting to stop my voice from making me sound like my voice box has died a slow and painful death.
"I know it's not much but it'll do, right?" he says, handing me a sandwich. I sit up and take it from him, ‘cause fuck it, it's better than nothing at all. I attack the fucker like there's no tomorrow, but as much as I'd like to eat the whole thing I can only manage half of it before I'm beat. Fuck you, stomach. Kyle runs a hand through my hair, putting the other half of the sandwich back in its box as I lean back on the seat.
He puts an arm around my shoulders and I hum, closing my eyes again. All I've done is sleep, pretty much, but for some reason, I just want to be hugged and go to sleep in a proper bed. When Kyle shows no signs of moving any time soon, I bury my head in his neck. Humming, he kisses the top of my head. I smile a little to myself, feeling sleep tugging at me. It doesn't take long for my lack of energy to push me back into a semi sleep on Kyle's shoulder. We might still be on the side of a freeway in the back seat of my car, but fuck it, I'm already home.