Everything Happens At 2:04 AM

Chapter Twenty-One: I Don't Speak To Lightweights.

this chapter? updated.

my fingers? outyped.

this weather? too cold.

hotel? trivago.

Chapter Twenty-One: "I Don't Speak To Lightweights."

I WOKE UP IN A BED.

It wasn't my bed from the villa, it wasn't my bed from home, from New York, from anywhere. Even when I was sleeping the part of me that was slightly awake knew it.

The awareness that I wasn't in my bed settled in when I shifted slightly, putting my head into the pillow without opening my eyes. I felt like someone took my head, dunk me in water and made me scream until I lost my voice.

"I haven't felt like this since last year. What the hell." I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse.  I didn't have a hangover but fuck, I hated feeling like this. Most of last night flew into my head, making me cringe a little bit but I knew I didn't fuck anything up last night. I couldn't have. Especially not before talking about Angie.

I groaned into the pillow I dug my face in, inhaling deeply.

It smelled like Caleb. Cinnamon? It wasn't hard to detect it from a mile away let along being surrounded by it.

Heavily like Caleb.

What the fuc-

I shifted in the bed, twisting my body to realize that I was in Caleb's bed. In Caleb's room. Rubbing my eyes and realizing that I fell asleep with my makeup on and without my hair in a bonnet, I knew I looked like a huge mess. The scarf that had been wrapped around my head now lay under the covers near my feet. "For fuck's sake", I mumbled, squinting as I took in my surroundings.

Caleb's bed sheets were black in contrast to the white walls of his room. My eyes landed on the flat screen mounted on the other end of the wall. There wasn't a single picture in here besides the couple on his nightstand and four paintings. I leaned over the bed and just as I was thinking his floor was carpeted silver.

I glanced over at the balcony, the open curtains letting streams of sunlight into the room. It was a bright day but too bright for me. Too bright for me who had decided to drink my liver out last night.

I got up highly unmotivated, stretching my arms over my head as I pushed myself up and off the bed. Looking around once more, I was most definitely not going to leave this room unless it had a bathroom. I turned at the closed doors, one I figured was his closet and the other, slightly opened where I could see a shower and a sink.

Padding over to the bathroom attached, I walked in and immediately cringed at my reflection and the horrid taste in my mouth. And the red sweater on top of my light purple tube top.

I wasn't wearing a sweater last night, I remembered. I put my hands in my pocket and suddenly questioned where my phone was. I didn't bother panicking but I checked my pockets and it didn't turn up. Peering out of the bathroom door, I spotted my phone charging on Caleb's nightstand.

Okay, I'm in Caleb bedroom, in Caleb's house with my phone charging on Caleb's nightstand wearing Caleb's sweater but where was Caleb?

Zipping the sweater down as I went back to the bathroom, I spotted a bag sitting on the sink. I put the sweater on the side, inspecting the bag to see clothes and my makeup. In addition to the bag, a toothbrush laid out for me, along with a note on top of one of my black backpacks.

I picked up the note and read it. I didn't read it at first, but my eyebrows rose at Caleb's calligraphy. "Huh. Pretty handwriting." I said to myself. He surprises me, truly.