For My Soul

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

happy reading loves:) for my soul Sunday even though in some places it is not Sunday anymore oops

Amelia's POV: Make a cuppa.

In all honesty, I can't figure out if it feels better to remember the events of the night before or to wake up with little recollection of how the night ended. When I remember, I tend to feel sick to my stomach, reanalysing whether what I said or did was embarrassing. However, now that I can't really remember how I got to bed feels even worse.

I remember that we began doing truth or shot, I remember I ran out of rum so I went back onto the white wine. I remember knowing that I was too drunk.

Did I get put to bed? Oh my god, that's embarrassing.

No. I would have remembered. Maybe I just went to bed?

When did the boys leave?

Oh god, my head hurts bad. My room is dark, the light is hidden well behind the curtains, so after I sit up, I clumsily stumble out of bed to turn the main light on. The light reveals that I haven't been sick anywhere, so that is nice. I don't feel sick either, so hopefully, this hangover will just stick to the headache.

I had fallen asleep in my clothes from the night before, and they were all twisted uncomfortably, so I shed them off and found something comfier to put on to go out into the kitchen and grab painkillers and some sort of caffeine.

I need to shower, but the loudness of the shower is already overwhelming on the best of days; today it's going to hurt. So first- painkillers.

I head outside of my bedroom and go straight to the kitchen, pulling a face at the sheer mess that remained. The contents of what was on the table last night are now across one of the kitchen sides, the other sides still full of washing up from the dessert that River brought around.

I know this all needs to be cleaned, but it's a job that requires more than my attention. Plus, I want painkillers and caffeine first. And a shower.

What even is the time?

I flick the kettle on, fill a moderately clean glass with water, and go back to my bathroom to find painkillers. Of course, due to the obscene about of headaches, I get, I cannot seem to find any medication. My brain is too tired for this.

So, sad and unimpressed, I go back through the flat and head towards Darcie's room. However, as soon as I walk into the front room, I stop dead in my tracks. River and Rex are fast asleep, top and tail on the couch, half of my spare duvet chaotically across them and the other half on the floor. Both were a tangle of limbs and none the wiser to me staring at them.

So they stayed. Okay. Okay?

If they stayed, surely that means they were also drunk so they probably wouldn't have noticed anything embarrassing that I did. I notice neither of them is snoring, so I look closer at their faces, slightly concerned that they're not breathing. But they're fine, their chests are moving so it's all okay.

I go to walk past them to Darcie's room, but then I realise that Tom will most likely be in there and he will not appreciate me walking in. But if I knock, the boys will wake up, and I do not want to navigate that social interaction.

So I turn around and head straight back into the kitchen. Maybe a cup of tea will make this all better anyway. I will make tea, lie in bed on my phone for a little bit longer and then I will shower. Where on earth is my phone? I don't think it's in my room.

Of course, when I think about my phone, it jumps for joy and tries to get my attention. What I mean by this is that it starts to ring somewhere in the flat, and my body immediately goes into self-preservation mode as I listen out and try and locate it, my heart rate increasing because I don't want it to wake them up.