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I wash thoroughly as though my hands are sandpaper until I am 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, I scrub that hard. All I know is that my downstairs was stinging and soap certainly wasn't helping that. All this stupid amount of worthless agony that brought moisture to my eyes if I walked too widely.

Eurgh.

Pulling on a long nightshirt and leaving the bottom nude, 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 man- which I'm still pissed I've only just discovered- it's clearly not the most thrilling thing having more experience with my vag than I would've expected…

Still, he could've said 'No'.

'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 his thousand books into tall, neat towers. He shrugs carefully, gesturing to the whole room like a shy teenager.

'You,' he stops, coughing to clear his throat and speaks louder. 'You need to be raised so I can see your… injuries'

Shrugging, I drop my butt to 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. He was starting to relax a little. Good. The realisation must have clicked into place for him; if I wasn't embarrassed, why should he be?

The pulling on of white gloves with that awful smacking sound makes me shudder. But for him, the scene gets easier. He was transforming into work mode like the flick of a switch. Putting on his uniform. Tightening his Superhero belt and adjusting his mask with ease.

It made me laugh more.

'Myself.'

He nods though he didn't understand what this means and kneels onto the floor so that he is eye level with my knees.

'Urm…' The trembled voice began delicately.

I look over my abdomen to where he sits awkwardly on his knees, almost in prayer. He is 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 you're 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 jump to shove the building of books from the desk and painfully clamber onto it, foolishly expecting it to be as soft as the bed. Man, I hate drunk Esme.

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

'That'll do.' He agrees, voice mute.

Focused now, he positions a tall lamp closer to my lower half, fixes his chair and takes a deep breath before rolling up my shirt just so that it just 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. Even from over here, with him held away from me for fear of death, the air surrounding him wavers.

Ridiculous really when all he could see were my thighs. Bloody hell, you would've thought he was allergic to the female body with that expression on his face.

'Hold on.' I interrupt, loudly. Okay, what the fuck?!

He jumps away, relieved for the distraction.

'What the fuck is that?!' I repeat (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 Alice and I had been giggling about earlier? God, did he actually know what sex was? Had someone given him the talk?!

'It's Edward's- it was in his drawer.'

Oh hell no!

'Fuck that!' I yell, jumping off of the desk at speed. He gulps nervously, clearly not understanding where he'd gone wrong. This was precisely why I found him so frustrating. Honestly, lube. The lube of a lonely teenager?!

Ew.

'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.

I roll my eyes and take a calming breath. There is no way in hell, I'm going near anything that had been near Edward's junk. To think, he'll be bringing out the tissues next, too. My shoulders shudder.

'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 enunciate, 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 overreacting.

The exhale from his mouth is audible.

'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, slipping my feet till they hang on the edge of the desk by the heel. It was luckily I'd had a thorough shave, I think, as I carefully open the stance of my lower half. 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's an awful sound of him applying the gel to his fingers.

'This may be a little cold…'

Okay, this time, I do 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 was hardly having fun, even if the suggestion was a bit risqué. Rather, I was desperate for him to hurry the fuck up so I could get some sleep. Admittedly…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? Curl his fingers and give me an orgasm?! Pfft, puh-lease. He might be stiff though clearly not where it mattered.

'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, trying to asses the images while looking nauseous and very confused. He must have been on his way to the bathroom.

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

And with that he rushes off to vomit.

Beneath the space in my legs, blue humoured eyes hold mine before quickly looking away again, seemingly mastered in the act of concentration.

Okay, the shutting of the door was again my fault. The rest was all 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 he thinks having his huge hands spread out like a fucking flower is a good idea, I have no clue?! Ow! Yet my vocal chords know to keep it silent. If I yelled at him for hurting me he'd only panic more and cause more pain.

A stubborn strand of thick blonde hair covers an eye when, panicked, he tries to match my gaze. I sigh again, feeling really bloody victimised as I reach below to delicately touch the latex wrist and move it lower.

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

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

Ah, shit. I know what that means.

'How bad is it?'

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'm curious! 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 is fucking impaling 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 so that I can feel his tone on my bare thigh. 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. The bed is close to the floor, I'm closer to the window, on a desk like six feet away. And my arms are too short. Stupid bloody DNA, I had no hope!

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

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

God, he really is a suck-up, isn't he?

'Just get on with it?' I ask, impatiently. He nods obediently and keeps the smile at bay.

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

Upon hearing the threat of 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— ah 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, quickly moving his hand away ad swallowing the lump in his throat. 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. 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. Particularly because he's glowing pink.

'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 lucky I'm not wearing my heels. He'd be pinned to the opposing wall.

'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 exactly 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 current 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. Typical dependable Cullen. He did good.

'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. His expression is unmoving and I quickly understand that this is not a kind flatmate suggestion. It's Doctor's orders. Damn it.

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

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

Did I mention I hate Freshmen?! Because I don't just hate them, I 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 Freshmen? 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?' Cullen asks when I'm on my knees scrubbing at the carpet and the walls trying to eradicate the stench of vomit and horrific cooking. Eurgh! That food came out our monthly budget. What a selfish ass.

'Go babysit!' I growl angrily knowing that he's already been doing that since the baby 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, particularly when it is my responsibility to watch him when we drink on account of the underage thing... No, he's pissed me off enough today. Edward deserves this suffering for making us baby him in the first place.

Stupid boy flatmate.

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

Cullen takes the baskets of soiled bedclothes from me and chucks them in the washer then returns to help 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. My anger has subsided a little. Mainly because I know that I can use this as a threat for the rest of his life.

The Kid 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, too.

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. Now under my feet again, Carlisle swaps with me so I grab the cleaned bucket and he holds his weight and together we tuck a delirious 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 and freeing the hair from his face. 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. Besides, it would be good for the numbing cream to air dry.

When I climb into my usual side, I realise he's beat me to his bedtime routine. Our toothpaste smells both strong and sweet with an escaped drop hanging on his grey shirt. His joggers are hanging long to his ankles and he has the cover resting under the calf on just one leg. From here, I realise he's reading from his bible of the anatomy, talking under his breath in words I can't catch. It's too light in the room anyway considering its 3:30 in the morning so I lean across, momentarily immobilising him with just my uncaged tits and flick 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 pinching him and demanding an all out confession. 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 beside him, hiding in myself. It's so quiet I'm thinking he forgot to breathe but suddenly, I hear him 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. The laughter turns to a fit and soon 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, just enough to silence him... But I'm wrong because that makes him laugh harder, his weight gasping beneath me as I, semi-gently, push onto him.

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 much.

So go 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 because everyone else with half a brain is already asleep. He's never this chatty? What's his problem today?!

'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. Suddenly, he's leaning above me, his spine curved, his right hand flat by the space my elbow and stomach are grazing, his hair is falling in his eyes, his heat and his lips quite literally falling onto my skin... For no real reason, I shudder and bring one of my legs closer to the other. 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 cheek. 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?' he inquires huskily. With a loud whine, I pull myself up.

'Is it me?!' I ask quickly. I'm too tired for this Nutter. I can deal with the mood swings in the Morning. Not right now.

He's now really entertained. 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 humored.

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

'Aw, don't be mad?' he pleads curiously. 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 go to 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.

'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.