FLASHES; ✔️

Chapter Two;

Chapter Two

You woke up feeling sluggish, suddenly remembering exactly why you didn't drink like you used too. The aftermath always was extreme cotton mouth, a pounding headache that would only get worst until you took some Advil chased with a large cup of coffee and skin that felt caked with make-up and sweat.

And the lenient promise that you would never drink again.

Something buzzed next to you, causing you to groan and reach towards the nightstand that was to the right of you. Barely opening your eyes, you felt around for the familiar block shape of your phone and pulled it towards where your head was still tucked safely under the covers.

Where are you?

You squinted at the text from Olivia, knowing that she was probably going to ask if you wanted to grab Saturday brunch with the girls. It was most likely to make up for the lack of effort on their end when it came to joining you last night. Knowing Olivia, she was also probably guilt tripping the other two into feeling just as bad as you know she did.

I'm at home. Why? What's up?

You hit the send button and burrowed a little deeper into you cave beneath the, warm and delicious smelling, sheets. They felt a little bit softer and silkier than they usually did, but something about being severally hungover always made you appreciate your bed and sleep a whole lot more. Another quick vibrate told you that Olivia had replied.

Then why haven't you answered the door yet? The girls and I have been standing here for close to ten minutes now.

You shot up suddenly, ignoring that fact that the littlest streak of sunlight that was creeping through the dark blinds happened to be hitting you right in the eyes. You took in the surroundings around you, a massive room with tan colored walls, a bed with dark sheets and blinds to match hanging from the windows, a large dresser that was way too expensive for you to even think about owning and a massive mirror up against what you could only assume was the closest.

"Shit," you muttered, catching a super quick glance of yourself in the mirror. It wasn't a pretty looking sight. Hair tussled everywhere, lovely looking eyeliner smudges that gave you the look of something from the Walking Dead and what you assumed was a hickey on your collarbone.

As you clutched your phone and looked around trying to find the dress you had been wearing the night before, knowing that you could worry about your wallet and purse in a bit; you heard what sounded like a running shower, suddenly shut off. How had you not been able to hear that before when you were just lying in a stranger's bed?

You only remembered bits and pieces of last night, but assuming the fact that you were stark naked in this massive bed and that you had a hickey and who knows what else on your body, something serious went down last night.

Suddenly a door swung open from behind the corner of what you thought was the closet, causing you to pull the covers you had in your lap up to your neck. The man from the bar last night stepped out and for the first time, you got a good sober look at him. Even if he was just standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist.

His green eyes still raked over you like last night, drinking you in through the covers and causing an abundance of goosebumps to wash over your skin. His brown hair was wet and slick against the top of his head and his scruff running along his jaw looked like it might of caught a little bit of spare shampoo suds before he stepped out. His jawline was set, but you could still see the start of a smirk forming in those full lips of his.

"You're awake," he said finally, walking towards the dresser and yanking open a drawer. "I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to have the housekeeper escort you out."

You tilted your head, trying to wrap it around what he had just said. "Housekeeper?"

His back was towards you, giving you a great view of the bare muscles running along his shoulders, but you saw him nod his head. "Yep. Annalise would have shown you the way out if I had to leave before you woke."

"You have to leave?"

Those green eyes turned towards you while he licked his bottom lip in thought before taking the black shirt he had procured from the drawer and yanking it over his head, pushing his slick hair in several different directions. You suddenly had a flashback of your hands doing something very similar the night before. "I'm a very busy man, Y/N."

The man may have been gorgeous, but he sure was acting like an ass right now. "Maybe I'm a busy woman," you countered, slightly offended that he was trying to give you the boot so quickly.

He chuckled, giving you his back once again and slipping on a pair of boxers, allowing you to look at that fine ass of his. Too bad his attitude wasn't as nice as the view that you were just given. "How much do you remember from last night?"

Despite being naked in his bed still, you felt yourself blush at the cloudy, darkness that was your memory. "Not much."

He let out a sigh, sounding a little irritated at your confession. "Do you at least remember my name?"

Another solid blank from you. Just as you were about to confide in the fact that you did not, in fact, know his name, his phone let out a loud ring from somewhere on top of the dresser he was rooting around in.

He took a glance at the screen and you heard him groan. "Jensen," he answered curtly.

Well that answered the name question, you thought.

Deciding that you couldn't just sit around here all day, trying to piece together your drunken rendezvous from the night before you took use to the next couple of minutes to hunt around the room for your dress. Taking the thin sheet with you as you stood up, you glanced around the parts of the floor that you hadn't been able to see from where you sat. The problem was, almost all of the sheets and blankets were black and that was the color of your dress. There were several pieces bunched up on the floor around the bed.

For a brief moment, you thought about how those sheets ended up the way that they did on the floor, but you didn't want to dwell on it too long. You were already feeling a certain type of way about the situation. Using your feet, you felt around trying to find the difference of material between your dress and the sheets, but the first pile was a bust.

As you were making your way over to the next pile of charcoal colored bedding, you listened in to the bits the conversation.

"That was printed already?" You overheard as he started pacing back and forth. "Are you sure? Can't it just be me?"

Feeling around, you felt something that was a tad rougher than the silk sheets. Bending forward, you pulled it out of the wrinkled mess and to your dismay found only a spare dress sock. You felt a presence behind you, but decided to ignore it while glancing around for another random pile. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there shortly."

Jensen let out another sigh, sounding a little more frustrated than before. "Your dress is over there," when you turned around, he pointed to a small little lump that was closer to the door. "I need you to get dressed. Quickly."

"Right," you blurted. "Cause you are a very busy man."

He opened his mouth, running his tongue along his bottom lip, and eyeing you again. It almost looked like he was trying not to be amused by your response. "Actually, I need you to come with me."