More Than Friendship

MTF(2): 3/4

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"Hugh..."

My head feels like a pickle jar. Seriously, I feel foggy. My brain feels like it's having swimming lessons and failing miserably. What the hell happened last night?
Peaking through my scrunched up eyes I could see a door with a desk to the right side of it.

The walls of the room were a dark shade of blue and the aroma that filled the room was intoxicating. I couldn't place it though , but it did smell familiar. Kolby, maybe ?

I shifted slightly , trying to wake my corpse like body from it's slumber.

"Ow! Fuck!"

The insides of my thighs were aching with every move my body made. I let out a breath trying to relax my tensed up muscles. It was like I had done a million squats the wrong way or something. But, there was no way I exercised after the party last night. Then again I was very unpredictable when I was drunk.

One time I even bought a cart full of bananas exclaiming they were for the 'lost monkeys foundation' then while driving I threw them at people shouting, " Save the monkeys!" or so I was told.

"Fuck!", I whisper shouted has I tried to get myself in a siting position.

The pain was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

"Who the fuck did I fuck last night!?", I turned my head to the body beside me.

I couldn't tell who it was except for the fact that they had black hair. Who has black hair? Black hair? Dylan? No Dylan had strawberry blond hair. I looked at the path of clothes leading to the bed. Maroon?

Who the hell wore maroon?

A loud sigh escaped from the person beside me has they turned their head.

"Peter?"

Well, I guess we did end up fucking. Dylan is definitely a psychic or I was just horny has hell. Probably the second one if I'm going to be honest. I mean look at him, how could you resist the temptation? I was never the same person when I was drunk.

I'm really considering the possibility of having a multiple personality disorder that only came out when I was drunk.

"Could've been worse...", I shrugged.

I shook my head has I brassed myself to get up from the bed. The pain came back two times worse then it was when I moved my legs. I let out another breath and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Who would've thought Peter would be that good? I did I guess or Candra , the person I became when I was drunk.

I looked back at Peter,"You got me good."
I continued to get up off the bed and picked up my clothes with small movements. At least I didn't feel like puking. That would have made all of this worse than it already was. I grabbed my bra and shirt, putting them on with ease.

It's when I looked down for my underwear that I actually began to panic. Where were they!?Forgetting the fact that my legs were killing me I began to search on my hands and knees. They weren't anywhere near the places my other clothes were found. I even checked under the bed. Looking at the places his clothes were was a lost cause.

I sighed. I swear if he hid them...

"Wait! Is that..!?"

Lying on top of the TV ,that was hanging on the wall, was my bright pink underwear. I walked over to it confused on how it got all the way over there. A black belt was also lying on the floor near it. Did we start over here? I turned, still confused.

My shorts were sitting on the end of the couch with my shoes on the floor. I went to grab them, still in a hurry to leave before Peter woke up. Why the hell are they all the way up there? I stepped on the table in front of the TV and unhooked them.