Duplicitous | T.N.

XX • Shame

The sun awoke her Monday morning. It surprised her because it was her alarm clock that commonly did the awaking. Her eyes bolted open suffused in worry, did she sleep in again?

In that moment Rory dreaded opening her eyes for two reasons. One, because of the aggressive pounding in her temple. Two, she woke up and she wasn't alone.

Rory's head shot to the right of her to try and defuse the situation she had landed herself in. To her holy terror a naked man laid beside her. She recognised him from somewhere before. Oh that one time with Ginny and Mione. Her eyes widened, she also recognised him from last night.

The memories began to overcome her, how she drank herself into sex. Her chest heaved in panic. Throwing the doona off her she noticed she was too completely lacking clothes.

She felt a blend of emotions, each a colourful synonym for 'shame'. She was overwhelmed with the painful humiliation and distress caused by her drunken personality, the part of her she shouldn't have released to begin with.

Her entire morning had already shrivelled, but to make matters worse, Rory noticed that she had fallen asleep on top of her white shirt. One that was drenched with drops of blood. Why was she bleeding? She was unsure, that never happened in her books and her period wasn't due for another two weeks. Collecting her underwear and bra from beside her, she attempted to stand.

Regret.

Within moments she succumbed back on to the bed and crossed her aching legs tightly together in hopes to ease the sickening pain.

"Ah." She whimpered. It wasn't nice, she attempted to rub her thighs but soon realised that might come off as a strange action. She couldn't move. Literally and figuratively stranded.

Waking up that morning was a bad idea, she thought to herself. Her head and crotch both burned like hell, the urge to vomit was overwhelming and she ruined her white shirt. Oh. Also, she lost her virginity to a complete stranger. One who was too old for her, the mere thought made her feel nauseous.

The urge to cry blocked out her other senses. She sat there and prayed for the tears to remain in her eyes and hidden. The hand that came to rest on her mid back scared her.

She jumped up turning to face him. Shock written in thick bold letters upon her face. He chuckled. "Well good morning to you too." She was too ashamed to smile. "You know I've been told my bed head is a nasty sight, didn't think it was bad enough to evoke such shock." That made her smile. Shaking her head, she looked down. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know, we're both adults, perfectly normal." He smiled gently.

The feeling to cry returned to her, she wasn't an adult. He could never know that.

"Not much of a talker while sober are you?" He teased.

In fear of coming off as rude she broke her silence. "No, my head is just killing me." She raised her hand to massage her forehead, it was half the truth, the pain overwhelming.

"Here." He leaned over her to reach into his bedside draw. "Aspirin." She looked confused. "It's muggle medicine." He explained. Placing it into her mouth she was ready to chew, he stopped her quickly. "No no, it's just swallowed." He grinned again. "Let me get you some water." He reached in between them for his boxer briefs, a shocking memory came back to mind, one that involved what was under those pants. She engulfed her bottom lip with her top one at the thought.

He came back, a mug, filled with water in hand. Here, this always helps. Placing the medication back on her tongue she tried to swallow it. To her luck, it didn't work the first time and began to dissolve at the back of her throat, the taste was vulgar, her face crumbled in reaction.