What was I here for?

Everything is warm. The air around me is like soup. That's the sweat. I'm lying there and feel the texture of the carpet against my skin. Was. This isn't real anymore, it's in the past. I try to think, try to-- I tried to think. I felt the texture of the carpet against my skin. The important thing, in my mind, was to maintain the line between then and now. That was half the reason I started writing this all down. I was lying almost flat on the carpet of Luke's apartment, catching my breath. I could hear him sitting in the chair. He was breathing heavily. A job well done. Having just had his dick and his cum down my throat, I was starting to realize just how much I disliked him. But whatever. Everybody's slept with somebody they didn't like much before. There's always a reason for it, and mine was better than most.

When I could feel the blood flowing in my veins again I sat up. I could feel the heat in my face. This was hardly the moment, but it seemed like, if I didn't ask now, I never would. All this would stay a mystery for me forever. "You..." I said. There was something caught in my throat. Yeah, his cum. Oh, go to hell. You--I--knew, know, what I meant. I coughed, ignoring the taste on my tongue. "So can you tell me what the hell is going on?" I asked. My voice sounded terrible. Notwithstanding the rough treatment I just received (not like I haven't had worse/better) I knew it had something to do with the gaps in my brain that weren't getting any smaller. I'd been running myself ragged to try to make things make sense.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, no nicer than he had been a few days ago (maybe) when I first texted him about it.

I got my arms around the rising tide of hate coming up from my stomach. Be an adult, I thought. Adults talk through their problems. They also don't give head about it, but everyone has their own ways of settling disputes. "The night at Le Mythe," I said. It felt so far away now. I knew I could take a look at a calendar and see how much time I'd been losing, but I was afraid to. "I can barely remember any of it. I'm a little worried someone slipped me something. Or something." But what could keep fucking you up like this days later? No drug I ever heard of. Had the back alley roofie chemists been cooking up something seriously weird?

Finally, Luke sat up and really looked at me. Maybe I was looking so pathetic he couldn't withhold basic human sympathy from me anymore. "Shit," he grunted.

It sounded knowing. I covered my chest with my hands to pretend to have some decorum. "What?" I asked.