The Sullivan Sisters

Truths Bound by Leather and Lips

It had been hours, but the tart taste of liquor was still on the tip of Paloma's tongue. As a matter of fact, the flavor was so intense that it alone managed to wake her from her ephemeral hibernation.

There wasn't an artificial light on in the bedroom, but the sun's rays managed to put so much strain on her sight that, had her fingers not massaged the small mounds beneath her brows, she would've thought that her eyes melted right out of her skull.

Paloma wanted more than anything to retreat beneath the comforter in hopes to scare off her massive headache, along with the rest of life's problems, but she couldn't. Not because she had work or any other dire responsibilities to attend to that morning, but because the split second she opened her eyes was just long enough for her to realize that the bedroom she was in was not her own.

Her hangover wasn't cutting her any breaks, so it took a solid ninety seconds for her to come to the realization that she hadn't the slightest clue as to where she was. She was God knows how many miles away from home, from familiarity. Suddenly, her mind-numbing headache dwindled down to the very bottom of her lengthy list of worries.

For a while, Paloma could count on her fingers the number of times she'd gotten black-out drunk. Both high school proms, a handful of crazy parties in college, and, more recently, Ava's birthday was the primary instances that came to mind. But, lately, gunning for a higher drinking tolerance had become commonplace so, it was far from the first time she'd woken up next to a complete stranger, forced to take the walk of shame. Still, that fact neither provided her comfort nor made her predicament less surprising.

She strategically slithered out of the bed, being sure not to wake whoever stirred in the sheets next to her. Whisking her panties off of the floor, Paloma began getting dressed as a quickly and quietly as humanly possible. Though her efforts felt futile once she managed to charge her hip into the bedside table, instantly knocking a lamp onto the floor.

She winced and gently massaged the tender area that was destined to bruise by the time she'd make it to her car—if she made it to her car. Paloma bit her lip and dared to face the bed once more. Not a peep from whoever enjoyed her company last night.

Although she wasn't someone who was partial to having carpet in the bedroom, she appreciated the disastrous decor that morning considering it substantially softened the blow of the lamp's fall. She juggled her heels in her arms along with her matching purse and car keys, all the while attempting to steady the lamp back onto the table.

Her eyebrows knitted together at the laminated paper that wrinkled beneath her feet. She raised it into the sun's light, briefly examining the room service menu. A few moments later, Paloma cast it onto the table then peered at the sleeping form in the bed.

It was only when the person proceeded to stir under the covers that Paloma was snapped out of her trance. In her experience, after a night of 'adult fun', it was best to leave before the other person woke up, not after. She had her hand wrapped around the door handle when a somnolent voice called out to her.

"Paloma?"

The brunette spun her head around so promptly that she wouldn't have been surprised if she was stricken with whiplash. Once the sleeping form emerged from beneath the mound of covers, Paloma stifled her laughter and nodded her head in a purely condescending manner. Shortly after, her artificial enthusiasm faded away. She threw her head back in a dramatic fit and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

"...Shit," whined Paloma.

The tail of Ava's dark-red mane spilled over onto her bare shoulders, tortuously tickling her flesh as she propped herself up and gave her eyes a fervent rub. After blinking a dozen or so times to ensure that Paloma's presence was more than just another one of her dream's cruel jokes, a heartfelt smile surmounted onto her features.