Fate Interrupted

25. The Aftereffect

Ren

I wake up. I slowly open my eyes, and it's still dark, the moon shining in slightly through my blinds. Though a very blurry brain, I attempt to take stock of my current statistics: I'm in my bed. I feel bad, but not terrible. I feel... heavy and very, very... thirsty.

I look down off the bed, and to my surprise, one of my dining room chairs is pulled up to the side of the bed as a makeshift table, and a big metal bowl is on the floor. On the chair is a box of tissues, painkillers, and a large glass of water. I immediately pick it up and drain the whole glass.

Wait. How did I get in bed? What happened?

I have zero memories at the moment. Then suddenly, I freeze as I realize I am, for sure, topless...I don't usually go to be without a T-shirt.... am I totaaally naked? What happened last night?

I quickly check under the covers. No, phew. I still have underwear on. I slowly wrap the covers around me again. Ever so slowly, bits and pieces of the night start fluttering back like falling confetti into my still-hazy consciousness.

Oh no, no, no, no.

I groan inwardly as the fragmented memories of me throwing up while Gio held me come on strongly now, rushing back like an avalanche into my visual cortex.

He had put a towel over me and tied my hair back. He had stroked my back and told me I'd be okay. I felt extreme hot embarrassment flood in waves over my body as each memory became clearer.

But I still don't remember coming to bed.

Slowly and carefully, I turn under the covers to look over my shoulder. An almost silent gasp escapes me as I take in Gio, lit softly by the moonlight, eyes gently closed, breathing slow and even, curled up just behind me, fast asleep in my bed.

I follow his angular hand, relaxed and curled up next to his chin to his wrist and olive-tanned forearm, turning the corner to his nicely toned bicep to his damn sexy muscular shoulder with that beautiful little dip and bump that is the edge of his collar bone which disappears back behind his hand—and I soak up the notion that he's at least half naked as well.

Just as slowly, I turn back around, feeling like I have to be very gentle with myself as I wrangle with what emotion is playing out more substantially in my chest currently.

Am I elated... or horrified that hot and cold Giovanni Regali is still here, sleeping next to me after everything that happened last night?

I try to work it out, but my head starts to ache as another wash of exhaustion hits me, and my heavy eyelids close, banging shut like heavy iron curtains on me again.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

My eyes blink open again, and it's morning. The room is thankfully dimmer than it might have been since I only have cheap blinds on the window, but it's raining heavily now. I hear the steady rush and the occasional swoosh of cars passing by on the drenched pavement outside.

A gloomy day. Perfect.

I briefly believe that I might be feeling ok when it quickly becomes quite apparent that I am most definitely... not. My head suddenly spins, my stomach twists, and I feel incredibly and painfully nauseous. My brain starts to throb, and my skull is too tight for that. Fuck me.

A moan of discomfort escapes my throat as I fumble on the makeshift chair nightstand for the water glass. It's light in my hand as I lift it, and then I remember I drained it in the night. I try to set it back down, but I miss the nightstand by half, and it tips over and falls to the floor with a crash. Crap. It didn't sound like it broke, though.