Just Rose

39

The house was almost free of traces of the party, the formally dressed cleaning staff moving from room to room on the ground floor, removing remnants of the celebration and spray killing the lingering smells with strong cleaners. Rob and Rose stayed in bed till noon before finally, starving, dragged themselves to the kitchen. Both suffering from the hangovers from hell as though their bodies were in after effects of some sort of forgotten beating.

A few Munro's had wandered aimlessly around, smiling and thanking them for a fantastic night as they had come downstairs. Equally rough looking and a little lack luster. Rob informed her a few had stayed in the guest rooms and probably more than he even remembered allowing as they watched a strange, red dressed, blonde girl, doing the walk of shame out the front door as they got to the kitchen. Everyone was suffering. No one flashing any winks or smiles at the pairs noise last night. She guessed they had not been the only noisy ones and was more than a little relieved.

Hamish Munro's sporran was hanging in the center of the hallway about twelve feet above the floor on a mounted stag's head. Somehow a symbol of the night everyone had taken part in. Things had gotten crazy and it seemed everyone was in the same state. Even Alice, nowhere to be seen at the late hour, Muffin sleeping by the cooker with a fresh bone under his nose and no one familiar, that wasn't hired to be up at this time, was milling around.

Looking at Muffin guiltily, Rose realised she must have let him out of there room on returning in the early hours. Maybe that had been a good thing considering what they had got up to. He would have been traumatised if he had been locked in a bedroom with Rob and her and whatever acrobatics they had been trying out.

Rob made her scrambled eggs and toast in the kitchen, he was looking better than her already, and they ate in the cosy room, spread out lazily, watching Jeremy Kyle. Laughing and cringing at the storylines and the state of the guests.

Finally settling into easy silence in front of an old movie. A passion they both shared in their down time, both too worse for the wear to even want to talk anymore and feeling like a day of TV and sleep was on the cards. Muffin was now curled under Rob's arm on the couch.

Traitor!

He was fast taking his cuddles and lap time with Rob nowadays and Rose had to practically bribe him for attention when she wanted it, Muffin truly adoring his new pack leader.

Her parents were staying in the cottage tonight. A text confirming, they were in a similar sorry state and that they would be leaving early and would see her next time. No need to drag anyone from their recovery to say goodbyes.

Abby would be dead for the rest of the day, hiding out in bed. Rose inwardly hoped she had the sense to sneak Duncan out a window and not bring him through the house now Rob was up. She knew her only too well, and knew in Rob's irritable hungover mood, he would literally knock the young man out.

Rose must have dozed off in front of the TV. The calm quiet cosiness of lying there doing what domestic couples did, watching rubbish daytime television and pigging out on snacks in sweat pants and t-shirts.

Rose awoke, his body shifting under her where she had been curled up against him, an arm laid around her. Rob was throwing his phone across at the table agitated, his face a thundering sight of tension. 'What's wrong?' She yawned and stretched sleepily, leaning off him to sit up and face him while straightening out limbs and easing away her stiffness, rubbing her eyes with the back of her fist.