Eyes Bright, Uptight {EDITING}

//on this night, in this light//

"...so embarrassed, and I wanted to keep the shit private, but no, I can't, because Georgie is fucking snoring on the couch as I'm fucking my mate's sister. God damnit George, are you even listening to me?" Ross continued.

"Where the fuck is Hann?" I interrupted, dismissing his speech.

Adam definitely would have cared if he knew Ross had slept with his sister, but I definitely wasn't going to say anything and Ross should have known better.

Ross's face squinted together. "Dunno, mate."

I spun on my heel in the room, then looked out the window to see if his car was outside. Adam was quite the player, way moreso than he let on, but he never, ever slept over at other girls' houses. He was one to fuck them good and cuddle til they fell asleep, but dip out in the early hours of the morning before any serious, sober conversations were made.

"Fucking code emergency, Ross," I shouted.

Ross rolled his eyes. "He was taking Claire home when I lied and said I was taking Tinnie back to her parent's house."

"Give me your keys," I demanded.

Ross moved his lips to protest, but gave in to my demands and handed over his car keys.

===

Claire's POV.

The rest of the night was an obscure cloud of alcohol, smoke, and occasional hand-holding with Matty. The memories were faint, and I don't remember what he said. I only remember him kissing me on the forehead as I laid my head in his lap, and him guiding me to the bathroom when he knew I was going to be sick.

My brain felt like it was swollen; the thrust of my hangover put pressure on my temple and eye. I felt like I hadn't slept, but when I looked at my alarm clock it was nearly noon. I had no idea how I got home.

I never did things like this.

I had changed into a a white racerback cami and new undies, but I don't remember doing it. My hair reeked of smoke and tequila, and my breath was the same. The cold water I splashed onto my face woke me up some, but the vibrations of my electric toothbrush made the headache more intense.

Two Aleve from the medicine cabinet went into my mouth, and I thanked whatever God I still clung to the belief of that they would work. Coffee. I needed coffee. But when I stumbled into the kitchen, someone had already beat me to it.

His face was obstructed by the open cabinet, and he was shirtless and rummaging through my mugs. Judging his height and Geisha tattoo, he was neither George nor Matty. He was wearing only boxers, and I caught myself approving of his bum before I realized I had no idea why he was here.

"Adam?!?" I shrieked.

This startled him, and he dropped a pastel mug onto the floor, shattering it.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, bending down to pick up the broken porcelain pieces off the floor.

I bent down to my knees with him and helped him. He could explain why he was here after there was no chance of my feet getting cut up by glass.

"Be careful," he said, his hair whisping around his eyes.

I got a broom and a dustpan and we finished the job.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you wake, you scared me," Adam said, pouring me a cup of coffee and then one for himself.

"I scared you?! No offense, Adam, but...what exactly are you doing in my apartment half-naked?" I inquired.