cure
ephemere
"What?" Roman wasn't necessarily being his typical dry self, but Chanel wasn't picking up on the fact that he was already high before she got here. She rarely ever interacted with the guy, both by circumstance and choice. She didn't hate him by any means, but to say she had a positive perception of him would have been a false statement. It would be more accurate to say that her expectations for him were quite low, and so she had no reason to believe that Roman wasn't being a little shit as a way to exploit the fact that she had an emergency. "The closet? Can you be serious right now? Did I leave my phone here or not?"
"You seriously don't remember?" Roman wasn't just being cheeky now, though his question definitely came across mockingly. When he scanned Chanel's face, it was in sincerity though. He remembered she got pretty drunk the previous night, but he didn't think it was that bad that she blacked out. He stood up, extending his arms towards the ceiling and letting out a sleepy yawn. "Don't worry, I have it. But it's probably dead." He walked over to his dresser to retrieve the phone, turning to Chanel and raising a brow. The relieved sigh she let out told him everything he needed to know. He tapped the screen as he walked back towards her. "It's dead," he confirmed. "Do you need to use mine?"
"Do you have Makayla's number?"
"Definitely not."
Chanel sighed and took the phone from Roman. She wasn't entirely sure if the throbbing in her temple was from last night or this morning, but she wanted to down an entire bottle of Advil right now. It was just a minor inconvenience compared to the major problem of not having a phone at all, but after the events of this morning, even something as small as needing to charge her phone was warrant enough to give her a headache. Even still, she turned the phone around in her hand and looked about the room, quietly wondering how Roman of all people ended up with it. Her face must have told what she was thinking because in the next second, Roman was laughing some, much to her annoyance. "I didn't realize you were that drunk. I figured you were just being weird when I took you home."
"Wait, wait wait." It shouldn't have been that crazy a theory considering Chanel didn't know how she ended up home to begin with. She just assumed she had managed to successfully stumble to the right apartment, somehow still have her keys on her and successfully be able to unlock her door and get into bed. It was just a couple yards away from Roman's place, after all, but then again when you were so drunk that you couldn't remember half of the night, anything that didn't end up with you in a ditch was just as much miraculous as it was mysterious. Still, she couldn't help but crack a smile at the possibility of Roman actually have a semblance of a heart beat. "Did you really, or are you shitting with me again?"
"You asked me to," Roman said. "But I'm not sure if I should be offended that you sound so surprised." Oddly enough, if Roman was sober, Chanel's disbelief would have irritated him for the simple fact that he didn't necessarily enjoy being reminded that people that he was the person he presented himself to be. Not because he was lacking in self-awareness so much, but rather because his self-sabotaging actions were just an unhealthy projection of the person he thought he was. But at least with internal thoughts like that, it felt less real because everything was, well, internalized. To see it validated in reality by other people was affronting because it certainly spoke more truth. Now, though, he was less biased and more understanding. "I'm actually not the worst person in the world."
"No, not the world. Just this floor." Chanel headed back towards the bedroom door, Roman following a few paces behind her. She was in a rush, but she also felt weird standing around talking to Roman in his bedroom. The fact that he had even let her in was strange to her, and that he hadn't kicked her out and slammed the door in her face was even stranger. "If you stopped sniffing that shit you might actually have enough time to live and course correct, you know?"
"What makes you think this isn't me course correcting?"
Chanel rolled her eyes as she exited his room, more than half-expecting for Roman to bid her farewell right then. Instead, he followed her out as well. She considered making a snarky comment that he didn't need to worry about her stealing anything, so the escort was unnecessary, but she decided against it. She wasn't sure why, but after looking him again something told her that she didn't really need to. "Is everything okay, by the way?"
"I have no clue, to be honest."
"Well," Roman said as he opened the door. "Keep me updated if you need anything."
Even Chanel couldn't control herself enough to stop the shock from showing in her eyes. She nervously laughed it off as she headed out. "Right, right. Thanks again."
"You seriously don't remember?" Roman wasn't just being cheeky now, though his question definitely came across mockingly. When he scanned Chanel's face, it was in sincerity though. He remembered she got pretty drunk the previous night, but he didn't think it was that bad that she blacked out. He stood up, extending his arms towards the ceiling and letting out a sleepy yawn. "Don't worry, I have it. But it's probably dead." He walked over to his dresser to retrieve the phone, turning to Chanel and raising a brow. The relieved sigh she let out told him everything he needed to know. He tapped the screen as he walked back towards her. "It's dead," he confirmed. "Do you need to use mine?"
"Do you have Makayla's number?"
"Definitely not."
Chanel sighed and took the phone from Roman. She wasn't entirely sure if the throbbing in her temple was from last night or this morning, but she wanted to down an entire bottle of Advil right now. It was just a minor inconvenience compared to the major problem of not having a phone at all, but after the events of this morning, even something as small as needing to charge her phone was warrant enough to give her a headache. Even still, she turned the phone around in her hand and looked about the room, quietly wondering how Roman of all people ended up with it. Her face must have told what she was thinking because in the next second, Roman was laughing some, much to her annoyance. "I didn't realize you were that drunk. I figured you were just being weird when I took you home."
"Wait, wait wait." It shouldn't have been that crazy a theory considering Chanel didn't know how she ended up home to begin with. She just assumed she had managed to successfully stumble to the right apartment, somehow still have her keys on her and successfully be able to unlock her door and get into bed. It was just a couple yards away from Roman's place, after all, but then again when you were so drunk that you couldn't remember half of the night, anything that didn't end up with you in a ditch was just as much miraculous as it was mysterious. Still, she couldn't help but crack a smile at the possibility of Roman actually have a semblance of a heart beat. "Did you really, or are you shitting with me again?"
"You asked me to," Roman said. "But I'm not sure if I should be offended that you sound so surprised." Oddly enough, if Roman was sober, Chanel's disbelief would have irritated him for the simple fact that he didn't necessarily enjoy being reminded that people that he was the person he presented himself to be. Not because he was lacking in self-awareness so much, but rather because his self-sabotaging actions were just an unhealthy projection of the person he thought he was. But at least with internal thoughts like that, it felt less real because everything was, well, internalized. To see it validated in reality by other people was affronting because it certainly spoke more truth. Now, though, he was less biased and more understanding. "I'm actually not the worst person in the world."
"No, not the world. Just this floor." Chanel headed back towards the bedroom door, Roman following a few paces behind her. She was in a rush, but she also felt weird standing around talking to Roman in his bedroom. The fact that he had even let her in was strange to her, and that he hadn't kicked her out and slammed the door in her face was even stranger. "If you stopped sniffing that shit you might actually have enough time to live and course correct, you know?"
"What makes you think this isn't me course correcting?"
Chanel rolled her eyes as she exited his room, more than half-expecting for Roman to bid her farewell right then. Instead, he followed her out as well. She considered making a snarky comment that he didn't need to worry about her stealing anything, so the escort was unnecessary, but she decided against it. She wasn't sure why, but after looking him again something told her that she didn't really need to. "Is everything okay, by the way?"
"I have no clue, to be honest."
"Well," Roman said as he opened the door. "Keep me updated if you need anything."
Even Chanel couldn't control herself enough to stop the shock from showing in her eyes. She nervously laughed it off as she headed out. "Right, right. Thanks again."