Pitbabe S2, Chapter 14 pg2

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 14 pg2

   Thinking about it, this is probably for the best. When Charlie was around, I had to put up with so much—my moods, cigarettes, alcohol, every meal, even sleep. Everything in my life changed since Charlie barged in. Now that he’s gone, it means I can do whatever I want with my life without worrying about making him anxious.

   Maybe it’s easier without him.

   I’ve been fine on my own my whole life. Having someone around for a while doesn’t mean I can’t survive without them. It’s just going back to how things were before him. I’ll be the old Babe again—free, doing whatever I want, no waiting for anyone, no caring about anything. Just the Babe who loves himself more than anyone, like always.

   No more loving Charlie.

   This might be a good thing.

   

   CHARLIE:

   A flash of light yanked me out of my dream world without warning. The sound of curtain hooks scraping against the rod has become one of the most annoying noises in the past few days, and it seems the culprit has no plans to stop this irritating behavior anytime soon.

   “Wake up, stray dog.”

   Even his voice is annoying. I pulled the blanket over my head to escape the threat in the form of a heartless doctor who’s been extra cruel lately.

   “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.”

   He didn’t just talk—he poked my leg in rhythm with his words. Not only is it rude to wake people up this early, but he’s using his foot to do it. I mean, sure, it’s nice to say we’re close now, but is this really how closeness should be used?

   “I just fell asleep,” I groaned as Dr. Chris yanked the blanket off. He blocked every chance I had to keep sleeping, acting exactly like a mom (not that I’d know what that’s like).

   “And whose fault is it for staying up watching music videos every night?”

   “I just couldn’t sleep.”

   “That’s your problem. I’m waking you up at this time every day until you sleep at normal hours like everyone else.”

   I sighed in defeat, forcing myself to sit up, prying my eyelids open despite my reluctance. It’s clear this doctor won’t give up easily, even though it’s not my fault. Does he think I want to stay up all night? If I had a choice, I’d sleep too. But since I can’t, I’m stuck sleeping in the morning every day.

   It’s been three days since Babe and I broke up. I packed my stuff and left that night. With nowhere else to go, I came to the lab, hauled everything here, and temporarily claimed the researcher’s bedroom as my own. Most of my stuff is still in boxes; only daily essentials are scattered around like I’m staying in a hotel. The difference is, this “hotel” has a staff member who comes in every day, hands on hips, to scold me. What impeccable service.

   “Alright, I just hope I can sleep like a normal person soon,” I said in a sluggish voice, rubbing my eyes.

   “Up all night, then refusing to wake up during the day—is this what heartbreak looks like?”

   “It’s not about heartbreak.”

   “Saying it’s not about Babe is a bit too much.”

   “It’s about Babe, but not because of heartbreak.”

   I scanned the bed I’d been sleeping on for days. This three-and-a-half-foot bed wasn’t exactly comfortable compared to the king-size one at Babe’s place. The blanket wasn’t as soft, and there was no soothing fragrance. But all this discomfort wasn’t why I couldn’t sleep.

   “If you can’t sleep without holding him, that’s definitely a heartbreak symptom.”

   “I mean, I do want to hold him,” I said, and the mention of holding brought to mind that I should probably get a body pillow or something. Lying flat and tossing around on an empty bed really made it hard to sleep. Compared to when Babe was beside me, even if I didn’t hold him all the time (because he’d complain about being too hot), whenever I woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to fall back asleep quickly, just pulling Babe into a hug for a few minutes would send me back to dreamland. “But the reason I can’t sleep… it’s more about worry.”

   “Can’t even guess what’s on your mind. Your life seems to have a million things to worry about.”

   “Babe can’t sleep alone.”

   “Scared of ghosts?” Dr. Chris raised an eyebrow, his expression suggesting he couldn’t believe someone like Pitbabe would be afraid of ghosts. I let out a soft chuckle, thinking it’d be nice if Babe was just scared of ghosts.

   “What should I call it… trauma, maybe?”

   “Trauma?”

   “Yeah, it’s been a while—two years ago.”

   “When Way died?”

   “Around that time,” I nodded slowly. Even though a lot of time had passed, talking about it was still tough for everyone. I believed that moving on with life would turn that event into just another memory, but whenever it was brought up, it felt like the wound reopened. Maybe that meant none of us had really healed much, had we? “A lot happened to all of us. Babe was hit the hardest, hurt from all sides, including by me. I did a lot to him too.”

   “Hmm… so he can’t sleep alone,” Dr. Chris nodded lightly. “But he still has friends. If he can’t sleep, he’ll probably call someone to keep him company.”

   “It’s not that kind of ‘can’t sleep alone,’” I let out a long sigh, feeling an unstoppable wave of guilt. “He has to sleep with me.”

   “It has to be you specifically?”

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