Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Fuck, my head hurts.
"Good morning," Izanagi says, walking into the living room shirtless.
"Why are you so loud?" I groan and sit up. "Put a shirt on and shut the fuck up."
"Yeah, yeah," he replies. "Drink." He holds a cup full of herbs to my lips and I make a disgusted face.
"Ew no. How do I know you're not trying to poison me?"
"It's for your hangover. If I wanted to poison you, I could've done it last night when you were so drunk that you were actually nice to me." A shock wave runs through me. Me? Nice to Izanagi? As if.
"Are you sure you weren't dreaming? Because I can't think of a universe where I would ever be nice to you," I shrug.
"Drink it now, Lilith," he says impatiently and I roll my eyes.
"You don't tell me what to do. You're not my dadd-" I don't even finish the word before Izanagi grabs me by my hair and pulls my head back. The action leaves my mouth open and he pours the drink down my throat.
"That's fucking nasty," I groan and stick my tongue out in disgust.
"Yes, but it will cure your hangover after you get some rest. What do you remember from last night?" Izanagi asks and I come up blank.
"I remember going to the club, talking to that son of a bitch Jax, and Amy," I gasp.
"Yeah, the girl you took the hospital," Izanagi finishes my thought for me and I make a face.
"How do you know that?" I ask a little confused. "What happened last night?"
"Long story short, after your conversation with Jax, you got drunk and I had to take care of you. You fucked up my name and called me Nazagi then you tried to stab me."
"That definitely sounds like me," I agree.
"You were nice-ish to me and said you liked my company," he gives me a tight-lipped and I cringe.
"That doesn't sound like me at all," I argue.
"Well, it was you. Unless you have a twin or something," he chuckles and I prop my head up on a pillow. Forget my head, my body is killing me.
"How nice was I to you last night?" I question because I would die if what I think happened, happened.
"What?"
"Did we, uhm, sleep together last night?" I ask hoping to hell that the answer is a hard no.
"Are you asking me if I had sex with you while you were drunk out of your mind?" He says, slightly offended.
"Yes. Answer the question."
"No. Besides, if I fucked you, little devil, trust me, you would know," he retorts, a little too cocky.