I awake in a cold sweat. Before I can even shake the sleep from my brain, I know something is wrong. My mind reels from an oddly vivid dream - one that makes no sense. It takes a moment for me to calibrate my surroundings. Right, in the same room I woke up yesterday.
Somehow, I feel much worse.
It is then that I realise that I'm about to throw up.
I detach myself from the bed and try to stand up. I barely get an inch before I'm on the floor, shaking. I curl myself up into a ball. All I can think is that I am going to die.
"Ashford!" I try to yell but it is more of a whisper. My eyes are half-closed when the door bursts open.
"What the fuck?" I hear a voice whisper. Then a hand is pressed to my damp forehead and I think I may retch.
s
"What the fuck did you do, Rosia?"
A brief part of myself realises that's not my name. The rest of me doesn't give a shit.
A feeling of weightlessness overtakes me as he carries me into another room, one I haven't seen before. I shake even in his arms. He sits me in front of the toilet and I've never been more grateful. The leftovers of yesterday's soup hit the bottom of the toilet bowl. Gross.
Another person is in the room now but I can't understand their harsh words. They are shouting and it hurts my head. Eventually, the feminine voice leaves.
"Open your mouth, Jennifer," a voice calls.
Too dazed to do anything but obey, I do as I'm told. Something sweet and boozy is forced in my mouth and I suddenly find myself ravenous. Insatiable. Using any remaining strength I have left, I grab the wrist of the hand that supplied the fruit and lick the juice from their fingers, consumed only by the need to have more, just a drop of that juice.
Ashford yanks his hand from my grasp. A rumbling sound emanates from my chest. "Breathe," he says. He looks pale.
I do as he asks and the fog in my mind soon clears. Everything clears; the shakes, the nausea.
I feel fine.
"Better?" Ashford asks.
"What..."
"I knew that all that shit you were taking must be taking a toll on your body. Why would you do that to yourself?" It sounds like a reprimand for a child. I probably deserve it.
I realise what he means. Withdrawals. Could I even remember the last day I hadn't had a shot of something with breakfast? Only then to wash it down with a night of drinking? I'd had my fair share of withdrawals, weekends where I decided to quit everything cold turkey only to end up hugging the toilet come Monday night, but they had never felt like this.
"What did you give me?"
He squints down at me. "Fermented Faerie fruit."
"So, alcohol?" I felt fine. Maybe faeries are lightweights.
"A bit stronger. I think it may be best if you lie down for the rest of the afternoon. Faerie food has... unpredictable outcomes on humans."
I start to feel a buzz. Nothing more than I can handle. I bring myself to my feet.
"I'm fine. Plus, we need to work on how to get me out of here." I shake my head to try and rid the effects of the booze.
He shifts from foot to foot. "I don't know of any way to get you back, Jennifer. I've already told you."
"Well, how did you get me here in the first place?" I push, trying to ignore the way my head is swimming.
"I... I don't know. One minute I was watching you sitting on the pavement, the next I was there. Then you collapsed and I caught you and I was back. With you. Look, I don't understand it either."
"It's obvious then, just work your little voodoo magic shit and poof me back. Work will be pissed if I'm late for shift. Again." The room starts to sway a little. "In fact, I'm sure they'll fire me." They probably should have months ago.
He blows out a breath, irate. "That's not how it works, ok?"
"Well, is there anyone else we can ask? I mean, you can't be the only faerie that exists," I say exasperatedly.
He shuts down. "No. It's not happening. End of story."
"You're being such an arse. Why don't you just ask one of your faerie friends if any of them can actually do some actually
useful
magic because I'm-"
"There is no one else here," he interrupts, voice low. "I've been banished here for more years than you've been alive so if you want to go out and try to find someone to ask, be my guest."
With that, my mouth finally closes. My vision begins to blur. I take it back, this fruit shit is strong. I can already feel my good sense evaporating into air.
"Do you know how weird this is for me?" I say suddenly, the words slurring from my mouth before I'm even aware I'm speaking.
"No. Tell me."
"It's probably difficult for you to imagine. But try to," I continue. "You're a 20-something year old girl, right?" His eyebrows rise. "And you're just going about your business in your shitty little life when some weird, pretty, blue guy steals you away to a fucking kids-book world. Where faeries are real. Like, what the fuck, right?"
"
Pretty
," he echoes, face amused, hardness erased. "You are definitely drunk. I knew a whole segment would be too much for you."
"I feel fine," I lie. I twirl around in the dress I still haven't taken off. "Do you get what I mean though? Like, you'd probably feel the same if you were me."
"If I were you, I think I'd make better life choices."
I scrunch up my nose. "Oh, yeah? Go on, tell me, elaborate on all the ways I've fucked myself up." I've most likely heard them all anyways.
His eyes glint. "For starters, if I were you, I would make better decisions than Max. Where did you find him? Some dark back alley you chose to walk down because, for some reason, you seem to enjoy endangering your life?"
I giggle. "You know too much about me, I think. It makes me feel weird."
"You make me feel weird," he says. His tone changes but I'm not quite lucid enough to understand the meaning behind it. "Come on, let's take you to bed."
My mouth falls open.
He rolls his eyes. "Not like that. Although, I like where your mind is headed."
I shake him off and follow him back to my room, where I promptly collapse onto the bed. He sighs.
"When does this stuff wear off? And why don't you have some with me?"
He pauses at the door, peering over at me intensely, like I'm under a microscope. "I don't know. I figure it will wear off within the next few hours, and it doesn't quite affect me in the same way as you."
Ashford goes to leave before I call out to him, "Stay."
His surprise is unhidden. He chuckles lightly, the sound almost bitter. "You are going to hate me in the morning. But, fine, my curiosity always outweighs my sense."
The bed dips down as he lies beside me. His feet dangle over the edge. We stay in silence for a while and it is almost comfortable, before I break it. "What is it like being non-human?" I ask just for the sake of filling the silence.
