I washed as thoroughly as sandpaper until I was sure I couldn't smell either Edward's vomit or even my own perfume tainting my skin. I couldn't tell if I was still bleeding, all I knew was that I was in a lot of pain. A stupid amount of worthless agony that brought moisture to my eyes if I walked too fast. And I never cry.

Eurgh.

Pulling on the nightshirt and leaving the bottom free, I waltz back into the Saint's room to find him reading and re-reading from a large book. He looks shy again, which you can't necessarily blame him for. As a gay guy- which I'm still pissed I've only just discovered- he's having more experience with my vag than I would've expected….

'Where do you want me?' I ask, gesturing to the large space of his room.

He'd attempted to tidy which meant he'd stacked all the books that were in the way into tall neat piles. He was shrugging, gesturing to the whole room like a shy teenager.

'You-' he stopped, coughed to clear his throat and spoke louder. 'You need to be raised so I can see your…injuries'

I take a seat on his bed and fall comfortably into the mattress, leaning on my elbows to look at him as if we were doing something other than an internal examination…

Well, I guess that would be considered an internal examination too.

'What are you laughing at?' He asks, smiling, finally starting to chill. The realisation clicked into place; If I wasn't embarrassed, why should he be?

The pulling on of white gloves with that awful smacking sound made me shudder. But for him, the scene got easier. He was transforming into work mode like the flick of a switch. Putting on his uniform.

It made me laugh more.

'Myself.'

He nodded though he didn't understand what this meant and knelt onto the floor so that he was eye level with my knees.

'Urm…' The trembled voice began delicately.

I looked over my abdomen to where he sat awkwardly. He was far too tall and the bed far too low down.

'You're too low.' He confirms with a frown to his words. I sit up and look around the room again, ignoring his temporary relief. If you say youre going to do something, you'd better do it. I don't give up that easily.

'Well how about here?' And without even a seconds pause I shove the building of books from the desk and painfully jump onto it, foolishly expecting it to be as soft as the bed. I hate drunk Esme.

He pulls at his shirt collar, turning a deep pink.

'That'll do.' His voice is mute.

He positions a tall lamp closer to my lower half, fixes his chair and takes a deep breath before rolling up my shirt just enough that it still covers the injuries. Despite the pain I am in, there is something genuinely funny about him panicking so silently just because I was laying mostly naked on his desk.

Bloody hell, you would've thought he was allergic to the female body with that expression on his face.

'Hold on.'

Okay, what the fuck is that?!

He jumps back, relieved for the distraction.

'What the fuck is that?!' I repeat (just aloud this time), glaring at the tub of lube sitting at his knee. He blushes and tries hard to look as if he is not.

'It's err... KY jelly?' He holds it up so I can see it better under the lamp light.

Even a little inebriated, I'm not an idiot. What the fuck is the Saint doing with lube?!

'Where did you get it?' I ask carefully. Was this the kind of revelation me and Alice had been giggling about earlier?

'It's Edwards- it was in his drawer'

Oh hell no!

'Fuck that!' I yell jumping off of the desk at speed. He gulps nervously, not understanding where he'd gone wrong. And this was why I found him so frustrating.

'What?!'

'Haven't you got your own?! Like some doctors brand or some shit?!' I'm sounding hysterical.

'Not on me, no.' He says defensively, clearly panicking. I roll my eyes and take a calming breath. There is no way in hell, I'm going near that stuff! He'll be bringing out the tissues next, too. Ew.

'I've got some in my room, hold on…'

At least I knew what the heck I did with my own tub. When I return to his room, he's sat in the same position in his chair like marble. I throw the jar to him , which he catches perfectly, and re-position myself on the edge of the desk, rolling up the t-shirt again while he keeps a distance.

'Are you absolutely sure-' the croaking of his voice begins.

'Yes!' I enuciate, gesturing for him to get on with it.

From beneath my knees, I see him shake nervously. He's lucky I'm drunk enough to be confident for the both of us. You would've thought this was the first naked woman he's seen from the way he's reacting.

Ass.

'If you-' he's squeaking again. 'If you could just part your legs for me…'

That was a phrase I was familiar with, maybe in not so delicate words. I did so with no complaint. Well I say no complaint. I was complaining but it was in my head, cursing damn penis piercings and the stupid people who invented them.

There was an awful sound as he applied the gel to his fingers

'This may be a little cold…'

Okay, this time, I did swear but it hardly counts because I say it quickly. My eyes are clamped shut as he shakily inspects the area, his voice jumping everywhere as he tries exceedingly hard not to freak out.

It wasn't too bad.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't having fun and I was desperate for him to hurry the fuck up, but…I'd had worse up there…one being the piercing…two being the dick attached to it…

All in all he was very…professional. But then what else was the Saint going to do? Throw holy water at me? Give me an orgasm?! Pfft, puh-lease.

'What in the sane hell?'

My head snaps to the doorway in the direction of the voice... to see Edward glaring at the two of us, looking nauseous and very confused. He was on his way to the bathroom.

'Is that…?' He'd spotted the jar, then.

And with that he rushes off to vomit.

Blue eyes catch mine before quickly looking away again, seemingly mastered in the act of concentration.

Okay, the shutting the door was again my fault but what the fuck Edward?!

'Anyway…'

The shake in his voice is matching the shake in his hands. It's getting awkward again, he's unaware of what he's looking for.

'You're a little…' I start to say.

He stops abruptly and by stopping I mean he freaks out and freezes up which goddamn burns. If I can't deal with a flaccid penis up there why in the sane hell does he think having his huge hands spread out like a fucking flower is a good idea?! OW?!... Yet my vocal cords know to kep it silent. If I yelled at him for hurting me he'd only panic once more and cause more pain.

Blue eyes covered by thick blonde hair greet my gaze. I sigh again, feeling really bloody victimised as I reach below to grab his wrist and shift it lower.

'It's kind of towards the back?' I tell him, ignoring the awkwardness. If it can be ignored? I'm no nurse, why the heck am I getting involved?!

'Oh,' he says gently but he sounds a little normal when he speaks again. 'Yeah, you've torn the skin…'

Ahhh shit. I know what that means.

'How bad is it?' What a weird thing to be asking my flatmate at 3 in the morning?!

With his elbow, he hits the head of the light to give him a better view then blinks a few times before frowning.

'You need to sit down.' He sighs, stopping to look at me and apparently regretting it. Like, I get it, I understand vagina isn't your forte but be reasonable, dude! I lay back down again with a mumble. 'And you need to relax…'

'I am relaxed!' I retort loudly. More relaxed than him anyway. I shift my hips from the painful oak of the edge and lay back down again.

'Ready?'

I can't help it, I have to shift again because the wood fucking impales my ass.

'Haven't you got a pillow or something?!'

He's obviously got a pillow, I can see it from here, but he's touchy when he replies.

'I'm a bit tied up at the moment…' he mutters. It's not like him to seem stressed…but then I did wake him up in the middle of the night…. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude.' He amends, sighing. 'Do you think you could…?'

I reach as much as I can but the bed is close to the floor, I'm closer to the window, on a desk like 6feet away. And my arms are too short. Stupid bloody DNA!

He sighs again before I hear the slap of the latex coming off. He reached for his pillow on the bed allowing the sight of his sweating to become eviden under the lamp's gleam. You can see it on his forehead and at his neck. For fuck sake, man up Cullen.

'Lift.' He's gentler now, placing the cushion beneath me before instructing me down again. 'Better?'

'Just get on with it?' I criticise, impatiently. He nods obidiently.

It's a few seconds into doing whatever he's doing that I hear him muttering to himself.

'Sternum...'

Upon hearing the fatal weapon of destruction, I consequently freak out and tense up thus issuing the pain of ten thousand knives into the lining of my bits.

'Hell—ahh shit.'

He places the heel of his hand on my pelvis, simply touching the skin with the awful rubber in a reassuring attempt. Then realisation takes place and he panics once again, sickened once more that his actions were more flatmate-like rather than Doctor-focused. I don't know whether that was a blessing or a curse.

'You need to relax...' He repeats apologetically.

We share an awkward look before frustrated, I painfully throw my head to the wood and regret it.

'What are you even doing, anyway?!' I complain, cursing my shitty self. But the distraction of us talking seems like a nice calming technique.

'I'm putting lidocaine on the area...'

'English please.' I mutter. This has him smiling,

'I'm numbing the area for you...before I stitch it.'

'I NEED STITCHES?!'

Fuuuuuck

'No! No, no...I'm sorry. I was joking…' He looks guiltily at me and I have the feeling that my drunken face is looking paler than expected.

'Not. Funny' I punctuate, grabbing the stolen breath through my teeth. Jeez, comic timing!

He tries not to laugh but I hear it slip through his mouth like a breath. I don't even think about it when I deliberately kick his shoulder with the bottom on my foot most probably exposing even more of myself to him (if that was even possible?).

He's fucking lucky I'm not wearing my heels.

'I'm really sorry…I was trying to lighten the mood.'

'Fantastic choice at three in the morning. Please, continue to delight me with your hilarious commentary. I had no idea you were, in fact, a comedian,'

On the whole, I've forgotten he has the upper hand considering where his hand is positioned but luckily, he acts with his usual fear.

'I really am very sorry…'

I huff at him and then we're interrupted by the cursing and the moaning and the hurling of a Mr. Masen. Like a professional, his eyes are on his patient. Or rather, on his patient's genitals.

'Okay, I'm done.'

He pushes his chair as far from me as he can get without being rude, ripping the gloves off at speed and with it, I'm sure, some of his hand hair. I sit up carefully, holding my head, annoyed for lots of reasons least of all that my flatmate is looking like he wants to kill himself. It's largely offensive.

'I'm going to check on Edward, if you wanna…'

I jump off of the wood, pleasantly surprised that my sore areas are no longer sore. Okay, now I'm smiling.

'Thanks,' I say quickly and I mean it. I'll do something nice later to prove it but for now I'm super relieved and am looking forward to just turning in my bed and going to sleep to put such a shitty night to rest.

'I wouldn't…' Carlisle stops at the doorway, hand on the wood, eyebrows pulled low with a restrained smile. He starts again. 'Maybe have a rest for two weeks.'

Two WEEKS?! I should be grateful I'm not in a relationship but I'm a hungry girl…I need to feed…a lot.

I nod, deliberately holding the smile so he knows I'm not happy but he only grins in entertainment.

And then the smell of stomach acid mixed with churned food hits me.

Did I mention I hate freshman?! Because I don't just hate them, I fucking despise them! With an air of total disgust, I follow the sting on my nose until I'm facing the west side of Edward's bedroom wall and man, am I angry!

You know what's worse than a freshman?

A freshman who can't hold his drink.

For fuck sake.

Heading to the kitchen, I fill a bucket with warm soapy water, pick up every bottle of disinfectant I can find and grab a washing basket.

'Need any help?' He asks when I'm sat on my knees scrubbing at the carpet and the walls trying to eradicate the stench of vomit and earlier's food. Eurgh!

'Go babysit!' I growl angrily knowing that he's already been doing that when he returned home while I was running around having a good time…well…not exactly a good time…

I really should be grateful to him for taking the majority of Edward's care but he's pissed me off enough today that I'm starting to hate ever living with boys.

Alice has got it right, including the sex on tap.

He takes the baskets of soiled bedclothes and chucks them in the washer for me then helps me scrub at the carpet, saying nothing because he's gone back to being shy and he's clever enough not to wind me up. Especially when I'm clearing up his friend's stomach.

The thought makes me wretch.

Because I'm still very drunk, at least in my legs, Carlisle takes the sloshing water downstairs so I go find his friend. And my anger subsides.

Mainly because I know that I can use this as a threat for the rest of his life.

He has his head to the toilet seat, mumbling and whining about things I can't catch, his hand is weighing on the flush, his toothbrush hanging lazily in his mouth because he hasn't got the energy to move it.

There's a glass of water at his side that hasn't been touched. Man Carlisle does baby him.

'Come on, Loser.' I say, pulling him gently to his feet but he's still drunk and is slurring foreign shit at me. Carlisle swaps with me so I grab the cleaned bucket and he holds his weight and together we tuck Edward into my bed like he really is a child.

He's still murmuring to himself in confusion when we settle the duvet around his crappy posture.

'I'll warn you now, you vomit in this room and daddy will be paying for all new furniture!' I threaten, placing the bucket by the end of the bed. He's frowning but otherwise shoos the both of us out. We're disturbing his sleep.

'Well I guess I'm with you then.' I slur, following Carlisle to his room. I can't tell if he's annoyed or not, he looks uncomfortable which is a little unusual but then this night has been full of wonders.

He offers a small smile and because I'm still a little offended about how adversely he reacted to my lady parts and how he took so long to infer he's gay, I see no harm in staying in just the shirt for the night.


When I climb into my usual side, he's reading from his bible of the anatomy. It's too light in the room anyway considering its 3:30 in the morning so I lean across, momentarily immobilising him and turn off his lamp.

'Thanks.' He murmurs sarcastically before I hear the thump of the book to the floor.

He should be lucky all I did was turn off the light. He's been rude enough today that I wouldn't be averse to punching him. Yeah, so much for shy. Not shy. Just gay.

Alice don't know shit either.

He relaxes a little in the dark which is nice for me because as much as I love to throw my weight around, it means I can curl up away from him, hiding in myself. It's so quiet I'm thinking he forgot to breathe but suddenly, I hear giggling.

Trying not to get irritated is hard because I'm tired and naturally irritable. Pulling the cover tighter over myself, I decide not to address his laughter because I have work in the morning and I'm grumpy enough as it is. But the laughter turns to a fit and he's laughing so hard I genuinely think I'm going to kick him out of the bed.

'I will strangle you.' I seethe glaring at nothing in the dark.

'I'm sorry.' He answers, still smiling but the laughter works its way back up again.

'Cullen!' Fuck sake.

'I know, I'm shutting up.'

He's not shutting up which is why I'm so wound up. Fucking fuckity fuck. I will punch the guy.

He's still laughing. So I do the best thing for me and move to hold a pillow lightly over his face. Not enough to genuinely suffocate him but enough to silence him... But I'm wrong because that makes him laugh harder.

When he finally calms down, I'm so angry I'm silent. Okay someone definitely did something, he is not himself.

'That's the pillow you were sitting on….' He sighs taking a loud breath.

I'm already contemplating sending him to share the bed with Edward but then Edward is clearly not gay and I can't see him being his type either. Fucking boys suck… Feel free to add any emphasis on that sentence, it's all accurate.

'Are you done?!'

He smirks in the dark thinking I can't see it.

'Yeah, yeah... Sorry I don't know what came over me.' He's fighting the giggles now which I appreciate because it means he's trying. I don't like the fact he's failing but you can only do so the fuck to sleep or next time, I won't be nice when I suffocate you.

'Do you want to know what I'm laughing at?'

I blink. That's all. That's all I can answer with because everyone else with half a brain is already asleep. He's never this chatty?! What's his problem?!

'No.' I answer, throwing my head to the pillow.

The bed leans and when I open my eyes again I feel him looming over me, peering at my face like a mischievous puppy.

'Not even curious?' He whispers because now he's catching on that I am not adverse to murder let alone jail. At least in jail I'd be able to get on and sleep without any distraction.

His weight shifts again. He's leaning over me properly, his right hand flat by the space my elbow and stomach are grazing, his hair is falling in his eyes. He's still grinning.

'No.' I repeat, furrowing my face into the pillow. Maybe I'll stop breathing, that'll be nice.

I can feel his laughter on my face. For yet another time, I pull my heavy eyes open and see two large blue orbs focused on my face. It's making me dizzy.

'Not even a little?'

With a loud whine, I pull myself up.

'Is it me?!' I ask quickly. I'm too tired for this bollocks.

He's now really entertained and I'm trying to think if I've seen him take any loopy medicine. He's like some sort of hyperactive non-violent Jekyll and Hyde.

'I'm not laughing at you.' He says, still giggling.

'Glad to hear it.' I turn the other way, facing his clothed twisted torso.

'Aww, don't be mad.'

I'm always mad!

'I'm not.' I growl.

'I didn't mean to wind you up…' He says, sounding softer already.

'Why don't we just sleep?' I say, feigning delight.

'Good idea.' He agrees, finally settling down...but I can see him grinning in the dark despite the fact my eyes are closed again.

'Cullen.'

'What?'

'Stop it.' I murmur.

'I'm not doing anything!' He argues, smiling loudly. Because he is smiling loudly which is why I'm getting wound up.

'You're distracting me!'

'From sleeping?' He questions. What the heck is with this guy?!

'I will kick you out.' It wasn't an empty threat. My foot was prepared as we spoke.

'Of my own bed?!'

He's testing me.

'Okay, okay.' he says quickly. 'I'm sorry. Look, I'm asleep now.'

The bed moves gently and he snuggles into the cover. Snuggles. What the hell? How did I not predict he was gay?!

Then he finally lets me sleep.