✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

27: Nuggets

ARI.

I've never had a hangover before. Granted, I never drank so much than I did last night, but damn did this fùcking suck. Not only did it feel like a train has run over my head twice, but the nauseating feeling in my stomach was like a handshake with death. My eyes were closed and it felt like my body was spinning in the Disneyland teacups. When I opened my eyes however, the spinning didn't stop and the dryness in my mouth and throat was utterly uncomfortable.

I slowly sat up in a bed that was not mine. How I got here was unknown to me and when I tried to recollect any memory of last night, all that bombarded my mind was beer pong and a few shots of Patron. The rest of the evening was gone.

I looked down at myself, expecting to still be dressed in that ridiculous sexy cop costume but to my surprise, I was comfortably clad in a Blink 182 shirt and a pair of plaid boxers.

Judging by my hangover and how several hours of my night were blacked out, I could only assume that had I had some help changing. Because there was no way I could've successfully got out of my costume and into these clothes by myself. Seriously, I have troubles putting on a hoodie sober.

My eyes scanned the bedroom. From the band posters adorning the walls, to the guitars in the corner, and the huge stuffed penguin on the floor, I knew exactly where I was. But the tall, blonde, quiff boy this room belonged to was nowhere to be found. Then the door slowly creaked open and the answers to my wandering questions sauntered in.

A dimpled grin, flat hair and sweat pants that rode low on his hips, Luke closed the door behind him and approached the bed.

"How you feeling?" He asked me, taking a seat on the empty space next to me.

"Like shit," I told him, my voice cracking at each word.

"Thought so," he smirked. "Which is why I brought you these," he threw a package of Excederin on my lap, "and because I'm the bestest friend ever, I also took the liberty of buying you some Maccas."

"You didn't," I gasped, oddly excited for the the greasy indulgence I didn't know I was yearning.

"Enjoy your nuggets and fries babe," he chuckled, placing the paper McDonald's bag on my lap, as well as handing me a huge plastic cup.

I took a long, hard swig of the ice cold lemonade in the cup, soothing the cotton mouth I had been plagued with. I could smell the deep fried heaven sitting on my lap and couldn't wait to dig in. But there was one thing that needed to be done before I could jubilantly indulge.

"Lucas?" I sat the cup of lemonade off to the side.

"Yes Ariane?" He replied, looking up at me as he laid on the bed with his phone at his fingertips.

"I'm sorry, for freaking out on you," I apologized. "You were just trying to look out for me and I shouldn't have yelled. I should've just calmly spoke to you instead. I will admit that I have a problem with being a little too independent and trying to be badass all the time. But thanks for having my back Luke."

"I adore you so much Ari, I hope you know that? And the last thing I want is to see you hurt. No half-assed friendships remember? Ride or die; Okay, okay; Hakuna Matata; whatever," Luke sat up on the bed, crossing his legs and scooting towards me. "Maybe I shouldn't have overreacted as well. I was just so frustrated and mad and maybe a little jealous. I said some shitty things to you and I can't take those words back."

"Hey," my voice soft, trying to send out a wave of comfort. "It really hurt me a lot, but I can move past it."

Luke suddenly cupped my cheeks into his large hands, resting his forehead against mine. His warm breath fanned against my face and I shivered from our close proximity.