Cravings (STYLE)

25 POV: Kyle

TWs, none(?)

My head hurts.

I slowly open my eyes, squinting at the bright light of the room.

Wait- what happened? Where am I?

I last remember... the party.

I'm laying on an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. The walls are vibrant, my hat is gone, and the curtains are drawn open, casting rays of sun into my eyes. I sit up quickly, looking around in alarm as I feel the soft covers slide off my body. "Wh-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay." a perfect, recognisable voice says in a soothing tone, placing a hand on mine.

I sharply turn to look over, before instantly regretting it as my head starts pounding. Leaning back, I groan in pain, squeezing my eyes shut. "Stan-?"

"I'm here," Stan smiles, entwining his fingers in mine to comfort me. And it works. I hold his hand tightly, grateful for his presence.

"Stan- what happened-?" I mumble, shielding my eyes from the light by blocking out the window with my spare arm.

"Uh, well." he clears his throat. "You got hit in the head and ended up with a mild concussion, I think. And Bebe tried to attack me. But we're fine now."

I sit back up quickly, turning to Stan in surprise. "What!? Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Oh god, and I forgot about your leg injury! How's your leg? Is it still painful, an should I change the bandage? Is it-"

"Ky, Ky- I'm fine, see?" the noirette interrupts, letting go of my hand to walk laps around the room to prove that he's okay. "I'm more worried about you, you know. You took a.. pretty bad hit."

"Come back," I mumble, reaching my hand out for him to re-take, which he does in a matter of seconds before returning to the side of my bed.

"Sorry," he grins apologetically, and I nod before laying back down, and closing my eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Euuffghkj."

"That's fair."

I hear him stand up again, and just as I go to protest, he closes the curtains and flicks off the light switch, all to help calm my headache.

"Oh... thank you." I say, as a half-whisper.

Stan just smiles, and returns to my side. He kneels on the floor; both of his hands holding one of my own; his elbows leaning horizontally on the mattress, with his chin on his arms in the kind of way you'd expect a kid to sleep in class, on a desk.

After a moment of silence, I speak up. "Did you say Bebe was trying to attack you? Why?"

The boy sighs, bringing my hand closer to him. "It's complicated. But, to sum it up, Tolkien tried to kill you apparently because he wants you out of town because you kill his targets, and you do a bad job apparently, though I disagree. You're amazing. So anyways, he got Bebe to help him, by ensuring Clydes safety in exchange."

"Hm." I hum, slowly sitting myself upright without sending a shock of pain to my head, though I blush slightly from Stans random compliment. "Sounds fun."

He laughs a little, making me smile.

"Anyways, we're supposed to meet with Tolkien to convince him on something."

"Convince him for what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a surprise." he replies, letting go of my hand before standing and stretching his limbs.

"Wh- hey! Fine then, let's go." I swing my legs out from under the duvet, preparing to get up.

"No-o-oh, no no no." Stan interrupts, standing infront of me and kneeling infront of me. "You are staying right here."

"No I'm not." I deadpan him, staring.

"Yes you are." he insists.

"I'm not, though."

"But you are."

"If you tell me to not go, you realise I'm just going to follow you and eavesdrop, right?"

Stan pauses. "Well, then. Don't do that. Stay here and rest, okay? You have a head injury."

I scoff, annoyed. "I don't care, I'm coming with you."

"You ready, Stan?" Bebe suddenly interrupts, stepping into the room. I turn to the girl, staring at her.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Stan replies, nodding at her. "Ky, stay here."

"You're not going without me. I'm coming too." I snap, pushing past the boy to stand up.

"No you aren't. You aren't well enough to-"

"-I'm sick of this. I can make my own decisions, you know? So what if I'm not in the best condition! I'll heal. It isn't a big deal, Stan. Either you let me go with you and Bebe, or I'll follow you both there and watch the whole thing go down from the sidelines. You choose."

He goes silent, contemplating what to do next, while staring into my eyes. I glare back, holding eye contact.

"Fine. Come on." Stan sighs, and I start to smile.

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!" I hiss in joy, bouncing up before instantly regretting it for the pain in my head, though I stay quiet about the feeling.

I don't want him to say to me something dumb like: "I told you so!"

All three of us walk out of the building and onto the somewhat busy street which bustles with people. I feel exposed without my hat on.

"Did I ever tell you I got into the basketball club?" I randomly comment to the boy, and he looks at me in pride, shock and excitement.

"Woah, really!? That's amazing!" he responds with genuine enthusiasm.

"Thanks!" I reply, blushing slightly.

"This way," Bebe speaks up, leading us both near to the edge of the town, and stopping outside a large, beautiful mansion-looking house. "Tolkiens house."

"I know, I was here last night." I mutter rather quietly to myself.

"He should be in the kitchen, if I'm right." The blonde says, leading us all through the lawn and towards the front door.

It feels like just yesterday I was here, doing dumb dares, drinking, laughing... which it was. It was all just yesterday.

The door gets knocked on by Stan, before we all take a step back, allowing room for the door to open.

"Wait- what are we convincing him for? You never told me." I whisper to Stan, being met with a shrug of his shoulders and a mischievous grin. "Stan-!"

Suddenly, Tolkien answers the door quite strongly. He looks tired, distracted, different.

He looks wrong.

"Can I... help you three?"