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*・。*゜・。・o゜・。*゜・。・o*゜・。・o*
I feel like shit when I realized I was fully awake.
I couldn't open my eyes for the same reason that my head was swarming and I'd probably vomit first before I could even stand on my feet. So, I stayed there. Letting the calm of the waves bring peace to my gurgling stomach.
Tugging closer the soft duvet around my chest and snuggling my head deeper down the pillows that smelled—smelled—sm—holy "—shit!"
What the hell happened last night?!
My vision took so long to adjust when I heard a voice calling my name and calming me down. Memories of last night raining down my head the more I sat there stopping the urge to throw up on the floor before fully seeing a figure right infront of me. Making my heart race faster than lightning I was ready to be eaten by wolves. "Luke?"
"Luke? Nah. I wish I was. But then I'll have to be an ugly breadstick." Mikey handed me a glass of coffee yet before I could even hold it—my stomach had other plans for me that he looked at me worried before saying, "The door to the left." I rushed to that door immediately and the contents of last night's regrets and mistakes poured down at the toilet. One minute, my liver was ready to run away, the next, my hair was lifted off of my shoulders while hands ran across my back.
Loud gagging after the other, when there's no more left to puke, I raised my head to see Mikey pursing his lip as he handed me a towel. I nodded, thanked him quietly a couple of times before closing the door behind him and staring myself at the mirror.
Well, I look like shit. But it's not the first time.
And I still can't believe I managed to get in Luke's room—while drunk at that and possibly passed the hell out at his door, and still wake up at the same place I never thought I'd still see the light of. I mean—he could call the management and send me off to my room, he could've called Kyle—or Kat for that matter. None of which he did. Yet here I am again. Assuming the best only to be met by the worst of it. For all I know, he abandoned this room. Or this was really Mikey's room and he just left his pillow there—because it smelled just like him. I can't go wrong with that staple Luke Hemmings scent.
But—no. He couldn't have left.
His perfume bottle was still by the sink.
It's far too expensive to leave behind and he's not the kind of man.
