I Scream For Everything That I've Loved

I woke up next to Kait, her arm around my waist. My shoulder was starting to hurt so I turned over, curling into her and leaning my head on her chest... Wait. It was so comfortable, but something didn't feel right.

She was lacking in a certain area here, and I opened my eyes to find bright colored tattoos in my face, a scar running directly down their center. I was laying next to- no, curled up into- Austin. I hope he wasn't awake, but now I couldn't just pull away in case he was awake. I'd pretend I'd been asleep, it wouldn't be as weird as snuggling up with him while awake. It was then that I realized his arm was wrapped tightly around my waist, his hand in a fist, holding the back of my shirt. But it wasn't like he was restraining me, he was still gentle, like he was just... It was like he didn't want to let go, but would if I wanted. I kind of liked it, I admitted to myself. 

After waiting a while and finding that I couldn't fall back asleep, I passed the time looking at the colors on his chest, along with the large scar that ran between them, finding the small details in his tattoos that I hadn't before. His arm tightened a bit around me, and small noises escaped his lips before he muttered 

"Hurry up, Al"
I laughed a little, glancing up to make sure he really was asleep before asking, "hurry up for what, Austin?" 
He sighed, his forehead forming creases as he pouted. "Nevermind..." 
I tried not to laugh and wake him, but he kept talking. 
"Come on. They're waiting!" 
"Waiting for what?"
He leaned his head down on mine, our foreheads touching. 
"You know... The fans are waiting, Al." 

And that's the last thing he said, returning to his steady breathing. 
But I was getting tired of just laying there, and I couldn't move with his grip on me, so I had to wake him up. 
"Austin." I whispered. No response. 
"Austin, wake up." I said in a normal tone, but he just took a shaky breath in, unmoving. 
"Hey! Austin!"
His eyes slowly opened, after yawning and stretching his legs out.

"Morning." He smiled sleepily, his voice cracking a little. He was so cute in the morning, never getting mad like he was just rudely awakened. I kind of wanted to tell him that.
"Morning, cutie. Do you always talk in your sleep?" I laughed as a light shade of pink just misted his cheeks.
His face dropped, as he ran his hand through his hair.
"Oh God, what did I say now?" he laughed, and I told him. 
"What were you dreaming about?" 
He swallowed loudly, and I thought I saw a tinge of pink spread over the skin of his cheeks once again.

"I-I um... I, I mean, we w-were on stage... No, we were gonna be late getting on stage. And the fans, th-they were getting impatient." He glanced down at his arm that was still hooked around me and quickly slid it off. Where his warm arm had been was now covered in pricks of cold air. I kind of didn't want him to let go. I wish his arm was back where it was, and I had a huge urge to lay back on his chest. Which would be weird, especially now that we're both awake. 

"Oh. Well I never realized you talked in your sleep." I let my eyes wander down to his chest piece that I had been previously studying, and he reached down to pull the covers up over his bare stomach as I did. Had I made him uncomfortable? I almost laughed at this, but instead propped myself up with my elbows and stretched, looking around for my shirt. Eh. I'd be warm enough soon, I didn't need it now. 

I pulled myself from the warm blankets to walk to the bathroom, my head spinning as I stood. And right on cue, the headache chimed in, pulsing inside my skull. 
I groaned, pushing on my forehead.
"Got ibuprofen?" 
He sat up, holding the blankets down on his torso. 
"Yeah I have some right here, hold on." He pulled open the bed-stand drawer, pulling out the little container to hand to me.

"Thanks man." I smiled, walking Into the bathroom. I smelled like chlorine and alcohol, not a great mixture; so I turned on the shower, stepping in. It was when I was just finishing rinsing my hair when I happened to glance down, near the bottom of the wall of the shower where water lines had stained in thin streaks. They were tinted a brown-red, that would have been unnoticeable if the walls were not pure white. What happened? Had he gotten hurt? I could definitely tell it had been blood, and had been left there for a while. I figured since it had been there long enough to stain the wall, whatever it came from was probably healed by now anyway and forgot the whole matter.