One Night Stand

Chapter 2: The Truth Comes Out

The faint swell of chirps that emanate from your window stirs you awake. A split few rays of sunlight break through the blinds, painting the room in a softened gold glow. It would have been a beautiful morning, had it not been for the ache that ricochets through your head. The throbbing starts minimally, only to grow in intensity as your body further begins to wake-up. For a moment, you feel the drinks from last night churn in your stomach, rising to sting the back of your throat.

On instinct, you jolt upwards, trying to chase down the rising bile as your arm brushes against a body beside yourself. You swallow deeply, trying to discern the haunting drinks as your eyes scan to the side. The memories of the night before slowly begin to fade back into your mind. Flashes of images painting your vision as you take in the auburn locks beside you. A sense of embarrassment floods over your features as you notice her lips are pulled into a firm smile beside you. It's evident she witnessed your debacle of nearly ruining your comforter.

"Hi-" you managed, offering an awkward smile that flashes across your lips as she subdues a chuckle.

"Good morning," she chirps, shifting underneath the sheets.

Her leg just barely brushes against yours and it sends a violent chill over feeling her warmth. You feel the feeling travel all the way up to your cheeks, which flush red. Despite the slight intoxication that was present in your bloodstream last night, you still remember every piece of what happened. The feeling of her fingers traveling along each inch of your body, the taste of her lips on yours, the moans that echoed into the four walls of your bedroom.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up," Wanda finishes ignoring the obvious display of embarrassment on your features.

You retort with just a short laugh, about to counter her words until reality sinks in. Despite the adventure you'd taken last night in meeting Wanda Maximoff, you still had work this morning. A factor that had presumably slipped your mind. Part of you wanted to roll-over, completely shut out the world and ignore the clock, but your responsibility won out. Your hand reached abruptly for your phone as you twisted the opposite direction to grab it from your nightstand.

"Shit!" The curse slipped our sharp and urgent as your eyes found the time. 8:43 AM. You were supposed to be in at 7 AM.

The reaction seemed to catch Wanda off guard as she shot up in bed too, clutching the sheet to her chest to hide herself. As if you hadn't seen it enough the night before.

"What? What is it?" Her brows pulled together in confusion, turning herself to face you just as you leapt free from the sheets. She seemed just as concerned as you, wanting to reach out but knowing she'd have to drop her cover to do so.

You hurriedly scrambled to find your scrub pants, a day old, but still usable. The velocity of your movements is enough to make your head spin as you jump into them, pulling them upwards and quickly tying a sloppy knot to hold them in place.

"I'm late!" You manage breathlessly, still scanning the bedroom to locate your top. In the moment, you were beginning to regret inviting Wanda to bed. One night stands were not generally your forte, especially when they left you painfully hungover and late for work.

Her eyes watch your every movement as you stumble across the floor to retrieve your scrub top. You nearly forget to pull on a sports bra, running to the dresser with your top in hand as you pull one out and slip it on. The hangover continued to taunt you through this, making your head spin as you ran back and forth before slipping the shirt on and pulling it down to adjust it.

"I can feel you watching me," you manage in a short breath, still attempting to hand-iron the fabric so it doesn't look irrefutably unprofessional. Yet, your efforts are poor as you look down, seeing the still ever present wrinkles in the navy cotton. With a defeated sigh you turn to look at Wanda who's seemingly taken back by the comment.