devotion // luke hemmings

two | hungover

Maeve's sudsy bathwater had gone cold and gurgled down the drain, her pale skin still dappled with beads of water when she laid herself in bed, defeated by her still-present hangover. she was aware of her unwashed and tattered hair and last night's remnants of makeup smeared across her cheeks, but the thought of a shower rather than a bath brought a petite frown to her lips. she'd soak in her filth until she could spare the energy to stand in the shower and wash her hair.

sun cascaded through her paper thin curtains, whitewashing her bedroom. she unstoppers a yawn, any opportunity of sleep was out of the question. it was too bright now, too late in the morning. actually, she wasn't even tired enough to sleep, just hungover. a foregin experience it seemed.

she rolled to her side, groping the fluffy duvet until she felt the cold metal of her phone against her hand. she unlocked it and toured through it with ease, worried that drunk Maeve had done something sober Maeve would suffer the consequences of with unmeasurable embarrassment. but it seemed she'd hadn't touched her phone at all the night before, except to punch in a phone number in her notes under a spaghetti recipe she wanted to try.

her thumb hovered over the phone number which was now highlighted in blue, her phone offering to take her to and the unknown number to iMessage with just one click. but before she could process another thought, the same unknown number flashed across the top of her screen.

You left so soon.

her brows furrowed, staring at the message until it disappeared from her screen. it was obvious who it could've been, the guy whom's bed she snuck out of that morning. whether she wanted to respond or not, she simply couldn't muster up the words to piece together the right reply.

she'd deal with it later, she decided, too exhausted to be lulled into conversation that required fast moving thumbs.

she surrounded her phone under her blanket, where it'd get lost and twisted in sheets as the battery mysteriously drained. she even managed to pull herself from the comfort of her blankets, her headache pulsing as she shuffled into the kitchen, desperate for water and relief.

"you fucking reek, dude." Sophia—Maeve's high maintenance and oversensitive roommate —lingered in the kitchen, her box-dyed pink hair fading and her tired eyes soaking up Maeve's appearance. "and you look like shit." she grinned, her teeth were coffee stained and her dimples were crooked. she'd take it personally if anyone ever pointed out that her dimples weren't symmetrical.

"jee, thanks." Maeve squeezed out, tugging her lips into a small smile. she dug hopefully through the fridge for a lonesome water bottle.

Sophia was smearing cream cheese across her burnt toast, her orange cardigan draped off her poor posture, the bottoms of her paint-stained sweats pooled around her feet. "you went out last night?" she asked, a mouth full of toast.

Maeve nodded in response, sparing Sophia from the gory details of her one night stand. she'd gush about it later, when her head didn't feel like it weighed a hundred pounds.

leftover Tupperware and empty butter containers knocked around the fridge, Maeve let out a frustrated growl, slamming the fridge shut. no water bottles, which meant she'd have to drink from the tap. she hated the tap water, she thought it tasted like pennies. but, her throat was dry. she was desperate.

she filled a purple plastic cup that advertised One Direction's faces across it, but the cup had endured a rough year, Liam's face was nearly scratched all the way off. Maeve frowned at him as cold water overflowed from the rim. then, she downed advil. something she should've done a while ago.

~•~
hi:)

sorry i uploaded one chapter and dipped for a while lol. i got super busy between school and work. ew:(

hope you're all doing well<3

-emma

p.s. sorry this chapter is soooooo boring