A day in the life - scomiche

Last Night

Hello loves, it's been a very long time, and I am sorry for that. However! I am trying to get back into writing and I thought this was a good place to start. My writing is rusty but hopefully this picks up your thirsty lil hearts LOL

Please tell me what you think!

Love, Rue

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I was dragged back into reality by the worst hangover I could remember. This is why I don't usually drink that much, I thought. But friends exist to push your drinking limits, and here we are. Fucking lasers of sunlight pierced through the shoddily closed curtains and I pulled my covers over my head to block them out. That's when I realized they were not my covers. This was not my bed. I bolted upright, and, fighting off the wave of nausea that came with moving, stumbled to my feet. Four poster bed, feather pillows, extensive record collection, the newest iPhone plugged into the wall, scented candles, and deep red nail polish on the desk. This was most certainly not my room. It was also not Kirstin's, the only other person whose room I had an excuse to know, but she and I had been over for almost a year now. It was nobody's fault; ours was just not a relationship that was built to last, and we both knew it. I still missed her every now and then, which might explain my drunk self staying over, but again - I double checked to make sure - this was not her bedroom. I ripped open the curtains in hopes that I'd at least recognize the street before realizing that I was completely and utterly naked.

Oh god.

I couldn't remember anything from last night let alone the girl I'd apparently gone home with.

My track record with girls was normally fine; I fell in love slowly but thoroughly. I was generally not the one to fall out of love first, and I really did love the girls I went out with at the time. And though I was quick to flirt and good at it, I had never in my life pulled a one night stand.

Until now, apparently. Was I supposed to stay and wait for my conquest - I cringed at the word - to come back? Was it better to leave unnoticed? I had to admit to myself that I was completely lost in this situation.

Relying on morning-after etiquette I'd learned from movies and songs, I decided it was best to leave quickly and quietly. I looked around for the trail of clothes leading to the bed but didn't see one. I opened the door, thanking every god I could think of that it didn't squeak, and peeked out, hoping my clothes were not strewn all the way up the stairs. Belatedly, I recognized the sound of a shower, just as it turned off. I must admit that I fully panicked and scurried back into the bedroom, leaning against the door behind me. I finally noticed that my clothes had been folded neatly and hung on the back of the desk chair, something I never would have done myself. I heard footsteps and frantically hopped around to get into my boxers and jeans. It was too late to leave unnoticed but at least I could be dressed and (hopefully) look like less of a dork. Nope. I overbalanced and crashed into her desk, spilling whatever knick knacks she had onto the floor.

"Hey - are you okay?" Her voice was high but not annoyingly so, and clear as a bell. My brain finally decided to prepare me with a flash of a memory from last night - that same voice, moaning, lips pressed into mine, and her hands with their red-tipped nails in my hair.

I shook away the remembered lust and disentangled myself from her desk to stand up, sheepishly piling whatever I had knocked over back onto her desk. I hoped my face wasn't too red.

The door flew open, and in strode a light, lithe creature dressed only in dark pants with raven hair, bright eyes, and tattoos. What I wasn't expecting was a very bare, and very male chest, complete with a wispy trail of hair leading below the waistband and one nipple pierced. I was sufficiently intimidated into silence.