When my eyes fluttered delicately open the next morning, Kristin was gone. You know, it's not like I actually expected her to stay long. Women that you meet in the bars rarely do. I rolled onto my tummy, buried my face in my squishiest pillow, and groaned.

I'd love to say the hangover made me never want to drink again, but in all honesty, it wasn't that bad.

In fact, I felt pretty fucking amazing. My headache was fading, my knee didn't hurt as much as it usually did after a long night, and my vision even seemed just a little bit clearer. Whether that was thanks to the alcohol or the sex, I don't know. There was a knock at my bedroom door.

"You want breakfast?"

It dawned on me that it was indeed Sunday, which meant Javier was being a dear and cooking a delicious breakfast that always tasted remarkably like my mother's Sunday breakfast.

"Yes, you gorgeous person." I called sleepily. It didn't occur to me until later that calling your gay roommate 'gorgeous' may have been the wrong decision – then again, there were fresh bacon and eggs on the line.

When I heard his little feet trot back to the kitchen, I rolled out of bed and flopped on the floor, naked and suddenly cold. I pouted and searched the floor for underwear. I found condom wrappers instead. Eventually, the mysterious vanishing boxers were found halfway across the room on my lampshade.

Blame it on the alcohol? Jamie Foxx was right.

"Sunny side up, Mr. Silva." I called, padding out into the kitchen. Javier spun around and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Nice underwear."

I looked down. Star Wars. "Thank you," I said, overconfidently, "I liked them too. Mother picked them out for my birthday."

Javier smiled and looked at the floor before going back to the lovely smelling, delicious looking eggs, and the crackling, greasy bacon. I leaned up against the counter beside him.

"You should get yourself checked out for crabs, Will."

I looked at him in amazement – not only because he'd suggested I'd gotten crabs, but mostly because he was calling me Will.

"Why should I?" I asked indignantly. I frowned at my Brazilian friend.

Javier shrugged. "I don't know. That girl that left this morning looked kind of sketchy to me."

"She was hot, dude." I said. I was deeply offended that Javier didn't believe in my taste in women. He raised his eyebrows.

"I'm gay, and I'm pretty sure she looked like Gandalf." He said. He passed me a plate of bacon and eggs. I took it gladly, but rudely.

Javier is incredibly over protective of me as a roommate, and I'm not quite sure why. Not once has he liked any of the women I've brought home – in his defense, I'm usually not cuddling on the couch with them or watching movies or stuff like that when he meets them. He usually walks in on us.

"What time did you get in last night?" I asked, demanding a subject change with my tone.

"Just in time to hear your friend screaming 'Liam!'."

I couldn't help but blush. How dare he come home in time to hear such things? Privacy, privacy.

"I thought someone had to be really special to butcher your name like that."

I was positively scandalized. "Is that a bit of jealousy I hear in your tone, Javier Silva?"

He shrugged. "No. I just didn't think you considered every girl you picked up from the bar 'special'. There's nothing to be jealous about. I have a boyfriend. You have your one night stands," He passed me coffee, "No worries."

"You have a boyfriend? That guy is your boyfriend now?" I said, grin spreading widely from ear to ear, "Javi!"

He smiled shyly at the ground. "Yeah."

I tossed my plate and mug on the table and swallowed him right up in a hug. "I'm so happy for you, Javi."

He hugged me back, almost unwillingly. "Thanks."

I spun away from him after that and sat down at the table, gesturing for him to sit with me. He sat and looked at me questioningly.

"Why did you go get drunk last night?"

I was kind of surprised by the question because Javier never asked me about drinking. We didn't drink together often, mostly because he didn't approve of my going to bars all the time and how much I loved to shoot vodka.

I shrugged. "You really want to know?"

He nodded and ate some of his breakfast. "My stomach hurts all the time and I'm really scared. I just thought that, you know, maybe a break from everything would help a bit."

Javier raised an eyebrow. I braced myself for a rude and snarky comment. "Your idea of a break was poisoning your own blood and contracting an STD?"

I frowned. "I didn't get an STD, okay? Be serious, dude. I don't know what my issue is."

Javier stood up to put his plate in the kitchen sink. He turned on the water and leaned against the counter.

"You're probably just suffering from a normal case of anxiety, Will."

It was really irking me that he was calling me Will. Despite my complaints, I really don't mind it when he calls me 'Liam'. The correction is mostly out of habit rather than irritation.

"I don't get anxious. I'm William Lucas Carr – us Carrs are superior beings; we don't get anxious."

Javi rolled his eyes, "You're so conceited, Liam." I watched him turn off the water and shuffle back in the direction of his bedroom. I stuck my tongue out like the mature adult I am. While he was off, attending to what I assumed to be some sort of silly Brazilian business, I tossed the contents of my plate into the trash.

You see, I love food. If there's one thing in the world that irks me more than anything, it's not being able to eat, and if this stupid guilt over everything in my god damn life was going to interfere with my process of consumption, then something needed to be done.

"Javier!" I shouted. I heard him sigh. My demanding tone didn't falter in the least, because I was determined to garner his attention. I stood up and stomped towards his bedroom, "Are you naked?"

"That was a strange question to ask."

What an idiot.

"Well I intend on bursting into your room, and if you're naked I don't really want to see the things I may see."

I slammed the door open regardless. It smashed off of the wall behind it and Javier looked up, startled. I rolled my eyes.

"I warned you." I reminded him.

He was sitting on his bed, legs crossed – and totally clothed, thankfully. I pouted at him and threw myself onto his bed. Javi fell over, because apparently jumping onto a bed when you're a fully grown man makes everything else on it go flying. I sat up beside him when he'd resituated.

"What's wrong?" Javi asked. I dropped my head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I know what's wrong with me. But I don't know how to fix it."

Javier raised an eyebrow curiously. "What's up?"

"It's that stupid fucking bulldog kid. She's all up in my grill and it's really getting on my nerves, know what I'm saying?

"…What language was that?"

Clearly my approach of trying to tell him my feelings with a little bit of flair was not going over well.

"It was English, you foreigner," I frowned, "Holly Warren. Dumb kid at Pizza Pizza. I feel like it's my fault because no one can find her."

"Why do you feel like that?" Javi asked. He shrugged my off of his shoulder and lay down. I sighed and flipped down beside him.

"Because! I saw her there and I just let her get away. I could have stopped her. What the fuck is wrong with me, Javier?"

He rolled to face me. "You shouldn't worry about it. You did you best. Liam? I don't know why you worry about these things. You're a good person. You shouldn't feel guilty about something you couldn't help."

He was right, which didn't surprise me because it was Javier and he was always right.

"Shut up." I said, because that was the most polite phrase I could muster up. Javier rolled his eyes and hugged me tightly.

"Go take a Sunday afternoon nap, or check yourself for genital warts or something," He joked. His dumb voice was right by my ear. I punched him.

"If you don't let me go I'm going to tell your boyfriend what you've been up to behind his back, hugging your best friend and all."

He actually let go of me, which absolutely shocked me. I frowned.

"I was kidding, you know."

Javier pushed me out of his room and I stumbled back into the living room. He was right. There really wasn't a reason for me to be worrying myself sick over something that I didn't have any control over. I was William Lucas Carr, and no Carr ever in the history of the universe let some ugly ass kid ruin their life.

But I mean, the newspaper was on the table, and she was on the front cover, and the only thing that seemed like a logical solution was to cut the article out…

Hi I'm updating and I'm really tired but I will not go to sleep because Kaitlin has a limited supply of internet and I will take advantage of it while I can read and review okay?

:')

I[m so tiewd