The Shadow's Eyes

Chapter 3

Green fields dark and dying

Strong arms wielding a glinting sword

Green and Blue against black

The mirrors surface becoming liquid

"ugh, I want to say remind me to never drink that much again, but I know I won't listen." Layla groaned from the other side of the bed.

I just slapped my arm out to the side patting to feel where she was, my mouth too dry, body too tired to even respond properly, groaning when I couldn't feel her. Leaning over the side of the bed, I found Layla, head inside of a bucket, hair pulled tight against her neck in only a tank top and a pair of sleep pants.

"I don't even remember half of what happened last night", my voice was a croak from overuse, heavens hell, how loud did I sing last night. I was one of those singers, I couldn't sing but I also couldn't not sing on a night out.

Memories from the night before flashed back to me, getting to the hip naughties theme bar, ordering drink after drink and dancing to typical club throwbacks on the dancefloor. Particulars were fuzzy, but I knew that it was a good night.

"Thank god we don't have work until Monday, I think I'll need both today and tomorrow to cure this hangover."

Flopping to lie on my back I stared at the ceiling, "Do I even want to know how or when you ended up on the floor?"

"No, no you do not. Also I am most definitely going to hit the shower up first, like right now. I don't know what is stuck in my hair, but my best guess is going to say its either alcohol or some residue vomit. Fingers crossed for the first option." Layla's voiced got more quiet as she crawled her way to bathroom to shower.

As the bathroom door clicked shut I couldn't help but think of Walsh. One more shot, I'd give him one more chance and then I'd end it, give the free woman lifestyle a shot. I know that Walsh said he was swamped with paperwork across the weekend, so I might make him a little meal for dinner to make it easier on him.

Ideas and recipes flowed through my head, something homestyle and warm, something hearty that could also be heated up the next the day for leftovers. Sheppard's pie would be the best bet, and it was easy to make as well as cost effective, I call that a win.

First it was shower, grocery store, home and then Walsh's place. With a plan in place and an idea in my head, there was no turning back, I knew my strengths and weaknesses, and stubbornness was one of them, though I'm still not sure which category to sort it into yet.

- - - - -

Layla dropped me off at the grocer closest to my house after we lounged around all day nursing hangovers, watching movies and eating as much junk food as possible. Whoever invented UberEats needed a raise, I feel as if they made most of their money off of hungover idiots like us. A quick stop at the supermarket was always a good way to save money, in and out for only the necessities.

Catching the bus home was slow, the bus taking an additional two streets for every turn that it could of taken, adding an additional 20 minutes to the trip. Its not like I didn't have my licence, now I'm not saying I'm a great, or even a good driver, but I do have my licence. It's just easier to catch the bus in the city for me, plus my apartment complex wasn't the best for long term parking. 30 apartments all fighting for the 20 spots that the building had.

Dragging the shopping bags up the stairs and into my apartment I dumped the bags onto the counter, preheating the oven for the Shepherd's pie. It was an easy recipe, one of the first I learnt when I moved out, the leftovers always tasting better the next night.