"What are you up to?" I scream - yet another squirrel-in protest. He lifts the duvet and lays me next to him.
"I told you I'd sleep on the bloody floor."
When I try to get out of bed, a strong arm pulls me back down onto the mattress, forcing me to submit.
"No, it is not. And I'll keep my arm on your chest until you agree." I pretend to rise, but his muscular arm holds me down, its warmth trickling onto my chest. Even if I tried, I doubt I'd be able to get him out of my bed with my flimsy arms.
Fine." I slide into the now-cold side of the bed, pulling the duvet up to my neck in an attempt to warm up. He turns to face me, our gazes locked as he rolls his gaze up and down my face - I feel the heat rush to my cheeks, biting my lip nervously.
"Do you feel cold?" His brow furrows in concern as he whispers softly. Yeah, because some dickhead stole my bed." I stifle a laugh - my sense of humour is truly a work of art.
"Well, then, I'll warm you up." His arm wraps around my shoulder, drawing me into his chest, our bodies entwined in the tight embrace. His chest feels like warmth, comfort, and safety.
His scent is a combination of alcohol and a fruity deodorant; I sniff in subtly as his scent intoxicates me, closing my eyes in enjoyment.
"What is your name? I'm not familiar with your name." Between sleepy breaths, he admits, his eyes closing as he nears the end of consciousness.
"It's because I didn't hand it over to you."
"Hello, my name is Togi." He mumbles a few words before soft snores escape his lips, his minty breath kissing the back of his neck as he slips off to sleep.
That is something I am already aware of. My brother follows them wherever they go- their little party twins, they've been inseparable since they met in high school. Different mothers, but the same drinking issues. I lightly push against his pecs, attempting to loosen his grip on me - his arm reaches out.
"No, bella, you're not leaving me again." Eyes shut. Grip is weak. He's probably dreaming about her, whoever she is. I shrug and fall asleep in his arm.
I open my eyes and look over to the other side of the bed.
"Wait." In a croaky tone, I say. "What happened to the boy in my bed?"
I get out of bed and put on a red New York City hoodie, shivering as I walk to my door. I take a breather before turning the doorknob, mentally preparing myself for the disaster that awaits downstairs. Hopefully, my brother ushered everyone out in the early morning hours before cleaning up the mess, which hopefully only consisted of people not using coasters under their cups.
As soon as I open my door, my nostrils are invaded by a mixture of alcohol, sweat, and...other stuff attacking my senses and instantly waking me up.
My eyes scan the bottom floor of our house from the top of the staircase, my heart pounding as the remnants of last night's party lay scattered across the floor. Our usually spotless lounge is now strewn with bottles and cups, with stains covering furniture in places they'd never been before.
"Good morning to you as well." He says this as he rubs his shoulder, a grin on his face, his obliviousness to the chaos around us making him difficult to take seriously.
"Megumi...the house is in total mess. "A f-u-c-k-i-n-g m-e-s-s." His grin fades as he looks around, his brow furrowing before directing his brown puppy eyes towards me. I'm sure he'll ask for my assistance, but being the strong-willed individual that I am, I'll make him do it himself. It will teach him responsibility and the fact that all actions have consequences.
Could you please assist me in cleaning it up?
Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
"All right...fine, but you fucking owe me."
Damn it, my kindness has betrayed me - fu*k you (fu*k me?) for being so generous. "You take the living room and guest bedroom, and I'll take the kitchen and dining area."
"Excuse me, blond idiot with a bad dye job, grab a bag and pick up the cans." As one of the girls' eyes roll open, I request a command to her. She grabs her stomach and sits up quickly, rushing to the restroom.
WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, CLEAN THE BATHROOM.
YOU'VE GETTEN IN THERE!" I yell after her as she sprints away from me, the sound of vomiting coming from her a few seconds later.
The two girls sober up together, but use church service as an excuse to avoid cleaning up the mess...the mess they made. I'm sure their 1 p.m. church service...on a Saturday...takes precedence over post-partum cleanup.
Despite the lack of hands, Megumi and I soldier on, and the house begins to come to life: cans disappear into black garbage bags, glasses flow into the dishwasher, and stains fade away.
We collect all the trash bags and place them in our neighbors' bins, hoping that Mum and Dad will not question why Mrs Alexis, a 92-year-old woman, has her bins filled with alcohol - and why would they? They're never here.
"Okay, we only have the front and back lawns to take care of. I'll take care of the front yard." As my brother returns from sneaking another garbage bag into Mrs Alexis' garbage cans, I tell him. He exits through the back door, leaving me to battle the littered front lawn.
"You're a caring sibling; you're a caring sibling..." I mumble to myself as I bend down to pick up my first can. I keep picking up cans for another 5 minutes, only to find my garbage bag full and the lawn still littered - barely making a dent in the mess. I groan and kick my bag, immediately regretting it as I collide with a glass bottle while hobbling around on one leg.