THE WARD

By the time sleeping beauty decides to open her sticky eyes and gaze upon the world is midday, and I'm neck deep in planning. Inspiration hit right around midnight, and I worked myself up into a frenzy.

It's one of those things, like writer's block or stage fright, where your mind kind of stops functioning, but when the ball gets rolling, nothing can stop you. Not even a curmudgeon twenty-something-year-old who's suffering from a severe hangover wakes up.

" Fuck a duck," I hear Laira groan from the bed, but I don't turn and just let her go through the motions. Also, I'm too busy scribbling away like a mad woman, afraid that if I stop, I might lose my train of thought and all inspiration will go poof.

She belatedly gables some more about how she is feeling like she is on death's door, and that is when I get up and bring her the required coffee and medication. I bet her head is splitting and the room is spinning out of control.

" Morning sunshine," I say this with all the cheer I manage to muster up after yet another sleepless night. It is loud and obnoxious, and when she makes a face at me, I know I've hit my mark.

" Fuck! Do you have to be this loud?" She grouses, taking a sip of coffee and aspirin. No, I don't, but hell if I'm not gonna make the most of this situation to brighten my shitty mood.

" No," I say as I make my way back to my desk. Yesterday was a crap day. There is no nice way to say this, but it is how it is. There is only one thing that is left to do. Just get on with it.

Laira groans, shuffling on the bed, and I know she trying to get up. It will take her a while but she will get there eventually.

After a few minutes, she shuffles her feet to the bathroom, slams the door hard enough to shake the one window I have and begins to wretch, loudly, gagging sounds and all.

Luckily, another knock on my hatch breaks up the nausea-inducing moment.

I open the hatch, and I'm greeted by David of all people.

" Is Laira here?" He says without preamble. I'm good, thanks for asking, I want to say, but I know he doesn't give a toss about me, and I also know that Laira is dead wrong about David.

I tip my head towards the bathroom, " Puking her guts out in the bathroom. Come on up," I move out of the way and put on the coffee machine. I didn't exactly expect guests, but I should've known David would be hot on her tail.

I catch him staring at the door, possibly pondering on whether to go in or not.

" She won't be very happy if you do," I say this just as he takes a step towards the door. He promptly turns on his heels and sits at the table while I fumble in the kitchenette making some plain toast for Laira to eat.

"Rough night?" I hum absently but it's mostly to make conversation. I already know this; he doesn't look too great, either. It explains why Laira came to me last night. She was avoiding David and yet another mistake.

He doesn't answer, but instead, he bores holes into the bathroom door as if he can see through it.

Eventually, Laira graces us with her presence. Her usually mousy demeanour has dulled over the years, and right now, she is wearing a scowl to make anyone in their right mind shake in their boots. Luckily, it is not directed at me; it is directed at David. They are so strange for two people that don't date, used to be brother and sister, and once upon a time slept together.

" Hi," David whispers as he stands up from his seat. Don't get me wrong, he is not happy either.

Glaring, Laira makes a beeline for the bed. I guess most times she tempers her moods in public and keeps things placid between them, but we are not in public. And in this moment I don't exist.

" Would you stop," David's voice cracks, while Laira angrily tugs on the covers to smoothen them, but manages to tangle them even more?

" David," She says as a warning, still yanking on the cover, which is now in a knot on the bed, all thanks to Laira's aggressively yanking at them. It baffles me how she managed to tangle a single flat sheet and a bedspread. But here we are.

" Please. Can you just listen to me," He pleads and I wonder how many times have they had this conversation. Knowing David, probably a few times.

" No David. Just. No." She takes a deep breath, her pale skin colouring with a faint shade of pink which I'm sure would have been bright red if she were feeling well.

" Christ almighty. Why are you so fucking stubborn?" David shouts, and I decide to help myself to the toast I've made for Laira and enjoy the show. That's a bonus.

It is fun when someone else's life goes up in flames. It kind of sucks when you're at the receiving end.

" The answer is no, David." She goes rigid, fists curled up tightly at her side, her glare is something magnificent, " You slept with me and then you went and had lunch and slept with her. All in the same fucking day. I don't even fucking know you," That's a lot of cursing coming from Laira. Who is her?

David opens his mouth to speak but Laira raises a hand to stop him," Don't you even fucking dare say her name in my presence," Holy hell. She is furious.

At least now I know what she has been hiding.

" You did the same," David accuses, and Laira laughs mockingly at him.

" Because you slept with her on the same fucking day you slept with me. You think I don't know. She was my friend. I was the first one she told. I got to hear it first hand, every single fucking detail of how she..." Her chin wobbles, and the distinct shine of tears glimmers in her eyes, but she blinks and it's gone. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman. David is screwed.

" You were my first. It meant everything to me. It meant nothing to you. Leave David," She points to the hatch with thunderous eyes; David shakes his head and plops back in the seat.