Stupid Couch

[Ian Hunt]

I lie on my back on the couch, still fully dressed despite the fact that night has long since fallen. I know it's completely fair to be made to sleep on the couch and I also know it's irrational to suddenly hate an item of furniture but I can't really help but not want to be here and to despise it.
Moving onto my side, I punch the pillow into a more comfortable shape, and then a couple more times for good measure, before lying back down properly.
There's too many distracting things down here. Like the tap in the kitchen dripping down the hall, and the shadows that are being cast from the limited light outside. There's no way I can sleep with all these stupid distractions and this stupid couch.
Of course, the real reason I can't sleep is because I'm not next to Maddie. I hate how much I miss that. It's very irrational to suddenly turn insomniac because there's no one next to me.
I managed to sleep just fine before I met Maddie. But now I need her. I need her and all I have is the stupid couch.
Moving restlessly back onto my back, I absently lace my hands together on my chest, watching the shadows on the ceiling.

[Madeline Speare]

Curling up on the bed I glance over at the empty spot next to me. I knew it was impossible to try and sleep without him next to me. I couldn't do it. There was no way I could go to sleep without Ian lying next to me. The fact I was wearing one of his shirts wasn't helping me too much either.
Rolling onto my back, I glance up at the ceiling, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. It was too quiet.
I'd grown use to the faint sounds of Ian breathing next to me, or Alex whimpering down the hall.
Now all I had was the sound of the tree hitting against the window because of the wind.
I bury my head into the pillow, closing my eyes. I was never going to go to sleep.

[Ian Hunt]

This wouldn't have bothered you before...
I take no notice of this, shifting position again until my back clicks painfully and I wince and bite my lip.
Yep, you probably deserved that.
I sit up gingerly, moving my legs round so I'm sitting up again and commence the search for a cigarette. She's not really going to know if I smoke in the house, just this once. There's no reason for her to know.
I still feel a little guilty upon lighting up, but I manage to ignore this. It's some small comfort at least.

[Madeline Speare]

Twirling a loose strand of hair around my finger, I frown, remembering Ian use to play with my hair.
Sighing heavily, I roll onto my back, pressing my palms to my forehead. Why must everything remind me of him?
Every little thing remind me of that cheating bastard.
You can't stop loving him.
I sit up slightly, rucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I couldn't sleep at all.

[Ian Hunt]

After a moment of sitting on the couch, I feel too guilty for breaking the no smoking in the house rule, and get up, heading through to the hall and opening the front door to stand on the step.
This also would never have bothered me before.
I've been thinking this through a lot lately, seeing as I've had a few hours lying on the couch not sleeping by now. There are a lot of things bothering me at the moment that never would have bothered me and I don't know how I got to be this way. I don't think I could live like I have before anymore. I'm hopeless and helpless and I despise it, but there's nothing I can do because I like the life I'm leading far too much.
Well, usually anyway. Not right now. At all.

[Madeline Speare]

Sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands are clasped tightly in my lap. The scars on my arm, still shone in the pale moon lightly, making me frown. I regret doing it. From the moment I had picked that piece of glass up in the bathroom things had gone downhill. I hated myself more then anything. I had let my family down. I had let myself down as well. I broke my promise, I turned into someone I swore I'd never been.
Getting up off the bed, I slowly open the door, heading down the stairs to the kitchen, thinking if I ate I might get some sleep.

[Ian Hunt]

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, glancing up as I hear footsteps on the stairs and making to flick the cigarette away.
I've been quitting for over a year now, so I probably shouldn't be smoking at all.
But then I change my mind, and just end up burning my other hand and wincing slightly, "Fuck."