Turns out I did, in fact, did not remember a single thing from last night. I do remember the talk at the pool and the party hitting its peak and how it all went wild from there.
But other than that? Nothing.
Which I'm grateful for.
Who knows what kind of nasty shit I told him while being in a state where I shouldn't even be with someone other than my plants.
The headache however, I am not grateful for this shit.
I kick off the duvet, squinting at the sunlight peering through the huge window and briefly thinking of getting black out curtains for that. Viciously rubbing an eye in hopes of getting myself to function, I steadily pulled myself up before it suddenly dawns to me how bad this hangover is.
I hurriedly stumbled into the bathroom, barely making it before throwing up all of my stomach's content.
Which is fine because I'm pretty sure it's 90% tequila and 20% whiskey.
I groaned into the toilet and squeezed my eyes shut, spitting out then blindly scrambling for the flush.
Fucking disgusting. I hate throwing up.
I leaned against the wall, welcoming the coolness of the tiles as I sat there in discomfort listening to my stomach rumble.
The serenity however gets disturbed by a loud thud followed by heavy footsteps. The sound increasingly getting closer to the bathroom-
I opened my eyes just in time as Lucas bursts through the bathroom door, sharply falling into his knees and hurls against the toilet.
I watch him throw up and as the realisation of us living under the same roof sinks in- I feel like it'll take me weeks, if not months, to get used to that, I sagged against the tiled wall, grabbing a roll of tissue paper and poking him at the back.
He groans and grabs it without looking up.
Atleast we both look and feel like shit.
How did we even get home if he got wasted as well?
He reaches up to flush the toilet but remains where he's seated.
"Should I wonder how we got home if we're both in this state?" I wondered out loud. Lucas spits one last time and flushes the toilet again before sagging against the cabinets.
"No" He mutters, voice hoarse and scratchy. He has a hand over his eyes and uses the other to point at the window above me.
"Could you please-" I yank the shower curtain to the side to block the sunlight.
"Thank you"
Neither of us says anything after that. Mostly because I'm pretty sure both of us aren't capable of functioning, let alone banter at the moment.
I further sagged against the wall, aware of how my feet are touching his legs but I'm suffering too much to be bothered by it.
A shrill ringing cuts through to silence. The sudden sound makes me jump back and unintentionally hitting my head against the wall. I groaned loudly just as Lucas mutters a few curse words as he scrambles to answer his stupid phone.
"What?" He snaps and I'm left to cradle my head.
This day's off to a bad start.
"It's fucking ass o'clock Mio- now?" I hear him shuffle meekly around.
Why is he even in a similar state as me?
"Why- okay fine fuck give me a sec"
"Mio's here" Without lifting my head from my hands,
YOU ARE READING
One With My Rival
Romance"Nica" She says and I can feel the dread settling in the bottom of my stomach. Please don't say it. "This is Min, CEO of the House of Cards bar and hotel" He steps forward and my first instinct was to step back, maybe grab the butter knife off the t...
