Craving Scarlett

|20|. Netflix and Chill?

Okay. Okay. I know I have been gone for an awfully long time but please don't hate me. I haven't been in the right frame of mind to write for a long time and then school started and exams rolled in and it just sorta caught up with me, you know? I know that's no excuse and trust me I am terribly sorry and I promise to make it up to you all somehow.

We have two weeks break and I'll use it to upload as much as I can. Can't leave you all hanging again. Teehee.

Also thank you for all the encouraging support so far, it has been heartwarming and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

★★★

Urgh, hell, I felt like shit.

Was the first thought I had when I woke up the next morning. I squeezed my eyes shut hoping to dispense with the loud buzzing in my head and mind numbing headaches. And the longer I stayed in bed, the more it intensified. It was absolutely horrendous. Hangovers were the worst!

I was never drinking again. The drinking might feel good but it sure as hell wasn't worth the morning after migraines. I felt like I've been bulldozed by a truck. Irritable and annoyed, I used my remaining strength to make my way blearily to the bathroom. There should be some aspirin in the medicine cabinet.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I grimaced at my reflection. Apparently, being hungover always brings out my worst morning face. My hair was a mess, my eyes were red and had smudges of black stains which must have been from my mascara, my skin was exceedingly pale and my freckles stood out now more than ever. In other words I looked a mess. A-my-boyfriend-broke-up-with-me-then-my-pet-dog-died-kind-of-mess.

I tried sorting through the bird nest but didn't have much progress. Involuntarily, I looked down and noticed I was wearing a large purple shirt with a smiley face on the front. I remembered it. Tom had given it to me as a joke. But what I didn't understand was why I was wearing it. In fact, I don't remember even coming home last night, so how did I end up here? The more I tried to remember, the more the headache pounded and I clutched my head falling to the ground with a slight groan.

Dazed, I heard a brief knock on the bedroom door. There was a slight pause then it swung open. A voice called out worriedly, "Scarlett?"

My God it was Marco. What the hell was he doing here by this time of the morning. At least I assumed it was morning. Again I heard him call out and I gathered up the strength to holler, "Over here."

Almost instantly, I heard the bathroom door bang against the wall. Heavy footsteps thundered over to where I still sat on the cold, tiled floor. It was kind of soothing.

"Shit. Scar? Are you okay? Did you hit anything? Are you hurt?" He asked, his voice raspy as he checked my body for any sign that I had been hurt. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and quickly assured him, "It's okay I'm fine. Just feeling a bit dizzy that's all."

Marco must have caught onto my lie when I tried to stand up and almost fell down again if not for Marco swinging me up in his arms with gentle ease and carrying me out of the bathroom. I would have protested indignantly, if I had been in the right frame of my mind but for now I'll just let it go and instead savour the feeling of Marco's musky scent.

"Why are you here and what happened last night? For some reason, I can't remember."

Gingerly, almost as if I might break, he laid me on the bed, and tucked the sheets around me all the while ignoring my question. From my bedside table, he brought a glass of water and two pills to my lips, urging me to take it.

I pursed my lips and jutted out my jaw stubbornly. No can do bro. I wasn't taking anything until he answered my question.

When Marco saw my expression, he narrowed his eyes and brought the pills closer as if daring me to refuse it. I narrowed my eyes in return and kept mum. I wouldn't succumb so easily. Ignoring my pounding headache.