Worst of Curses, Best of Friends Pt. 1

"Hee hee, you're so slow. Wake up already!"

I could barely make out what the giggling male voice said because of the immense headache I had that was making the whole room buzz, which was distorting the sounds that came across my ears and attempting to turn them into some form of vocal spaghetti.

"Hehe~."

Okay, I could hear that pretty clearly. Now, I couldn't see anything, but if I could make an educated guess, the way his girly laughter made me want to punch his face off probably meant he could only be one person. Because unless I was mistaken and my ears really did hear spaghetti, the person who was laughing their face off was probably Milan.

Probably being 99.9 percent. And a half.

"You know, if you just, I don't know, opened your eyes, you'd know for sure who I was, right?"

Okay, yeah, that was Milan. The smirking bastard knew everything about me- whether I told him or not. I swear he's read my mind multiple times, but then again, that'd be crazy, so I just go with the idea of him being one of those annoying people who just know you all too well. Which sounds about right.

Actually, that’s a perfect description of him.

Speaking of the devil, he was poking and prodding my sleepy headachy close-eyed face off.

“Ugh, get up!~” The voice sounded irritated- Milan was getting impatient.

“F-f-five more minutes...” I groaned, not really wanting to get up or open my eyes because I would never pass up a chance to make Milan annoyed like this. What can I say? It was fun making him all riled up like this- even if I couldn’t see his pout like I usually could when my eyes were actually open...

And, either way, my body simply hurt so bad it didn’t seem like I could think too clearly, let alone open my eyes or, as Milan would put it, “get up!~”.

Speaking of the kid, Milan sighed, probably rolling his eyes in a very Milan-like way. I felt a little nudge on my head, as if he had swatted me on the head.

^Rawor.

And then there was a faint roar in the distance- it was recognizable, but from where, I couldn’t tell. I, personally, thought it sounded funny, and even cute, and it got all distorted in this really hilarious way because of my (now slowly receding) headache. But Milan felt the opposite, probably jumping at the very faint ring of that roar, and making a tiny "eek" sound as he supposedly shifted in his seat/wherever he was.

He groaned to himself, and whispered hurriedly.

"...Seriously, Alexandria... please... open your eyes. We, erm, haven't got much time." He shook my shoulders, carefully yet forcefully, seemingly rushed for some reason.

Milan's worried tone surprised me. He was always the calm and collected one of our little partnership, and he never, ever, sounded even a little worried- and with this tone, I knew something was seriously wrong. I was always the person with a flaming personality, who would start the small fights we had (well, to be fair, Milan provoked them), who would get overexcited when there was a new game to be played, who would throw a fit when I lost. Who would sound worried sometimes. Not him.

So out of fear of what might be worrying him and surprise for his strange actions, and maybe a little curious at what his face might look like when he sounded like this (I always wanted to see his face deathly white, but never really got the chance to), I instinctively opened my eyes.

And stared right into his.

“W-wha-what are y-you doing in my face?!” I yelled- okay, stuttered- out of pure shock. I mean, seriously, his face was like inches from mine, auburn eyes staring at mine with worry, ruffled chestnut hair getting on his face. (Was that a strand of his hair touching my cheek?)

Wayyyy too close. And the thing is, he didn’t move. Not an inch. It was as if he was waiting for something and was about to lean forward and ki-

“W-wha-what are y-you doing in my face?!” I yelled- okay, stuttered- yet again. My fuzzy brain suddenly cleared up a whole bunch, my thought process going from huh? to oh my goodness no please tell me I did not just think that thought what is my problem eww why would I even think that.

Of course, Milan probably knew what I was thinking. His face proceeded to back up, obviously irked, and a little amused. That amusement soon faded away, when my head felt a surge of pain, making me wince.

He huffed, and then frowned and stared at me, concern clearly showing on his face.

“You want to know what I was doing in your face? Oh, I don’t know, making sure you were alive? That Draen was about to kill you." He was pretty mad at this point, although I knew he wouldn’t actually start yelling at me or something- he was far too controlled for that.

But wait.

A Draen?!

"A Draen? Here?" I was surprised that they even existed, but if there really was one and it was here...

"Yeah, a Draen! I warped us away a short distance, and led it on a false trail, but it’s coming back!” Milan yelled, tears somehow welling up into his eyes. His hair stuck on his face, and he huffed angrily (again) to blow the strands away.

Honestly, though, if a Draen attacked me, Milan's flyaway hair was the least of my worries. If the Draen had already attacked me, then that would explain my overall poor condition mentally and physically. But if it was coming back...

A Draen that already attacked and was coming back to kill me?

That would literally, and I mean literally, translate into: Oh crap, I'm dead.

And by the way Milan looked, he was probably thinking the same thing, that- oh crap- I'm dead. He voiced his opinions, too.

“Why’d you actually have to do it?! I- I told you not to go, I...” Milan was being extremely out of character- but, I guess that’s what happens when you’re about to witness a half-friend/only-person-you-talk-to-and-also-funnest-one-to-tease, well, die. He was struggling to hide his tears, but failing as one tear dropped from his face, then another.

Wait.

Tears?

From Milan?

WHATTTT?!

This was serious. Well, then again, the siphon attack from any Draen was lethal, which gave me the question of why I was still alive, and what exactly happened before I blacked out, but still...

I had the feeling that I knew where we were- probably a Draen lair- but I wanted to be sure.

I looked around from my place lying on the floor, something that I should have probably done but failed to remember to do before, because of my new IQ status as a recovering siphoned equivalent of a lump of potato.

The stone hallway-like chamber was faintly illuminated by the magical torches that seemed to never burn out on the walls. There was a statue on one side, the shape not clear enough to actually know what it was. The space in front of me went in a straight line for a distance, until it veered to the right and led into darkness. Definitely the Draen's lair; I had heard about it in stories. It was, you could say, a part of the family legacy.

Heh.

Talk about that later.

Because if the Draen was coming back, then we'd better leave. It'd be here in minutes, and I did not want to be in its lair when it reared its semi-ugly head. And tail. The tail was what worried me- it was the siphon.

“All right, coming...” I tried to sit up, shakily, then collapsed- obviously not recovered enough from the siphon to move, let alone walk.

“Sorry... heh...”

There was no way I’d be able to walk, that was for sure. It seemed funny, how I was stuck here, about to die because I was stupid enough to come here to let off some steam- it just plunged me into hot water, or at least metaphorically. Realistically, it was more like being siphoned to death by a giant energy-seeking creature. Why did I even think of running here, of all places...? Even when the place was explicitly marked on the imaginary "dangerous places you'll probably die in" list?

Oh yeah.

It was that argument that caused this.

See, I was kind of a sucker for dares.