" 𝐖𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬. "
Y/N is the girl that everyone wants to be and or want to be with. Having the w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
———
...MY HEAD IS KILLING ME.
The ghastly brilliance of the high afternoon sun had chose to shine directly on my eyelids and interrelate with my bleary pupils that had blinded me momentarily.
The air is thick and strong with the scent of alcohol still lingering in the air. A simple whiff of it made me want to puke immediately. The aching of my head only drove all of the agony further through my exhausted limbs.
My mouth is dry, and my stomach is on the verge of hurling itself out of my body whenever I begin to shift myself. I combed a heavy hand through my tangled, and slightly greasy golden locks. The pain was traveling from one side of my brain to the other, breaking down all the walls that it passed.
It was no use; I overdid it last night and drank too much.
I groaned mumbly and turned over onto my side, trying to shroud myself back into the depths of the thick, white blankets, which smelled of soap mixed with whatever clouds smelled like. Wherever I was brought to, the owner at least had good hygiene and kept their environment livable.
But where am I?
I attempted to pry open my eyes, even though the blurriness in my vision still hadn't quite faded yet.
I was near the ceiling—a second floor?—no...on a bunk bed then? That would explain the height and the unusual amount of light, but what about the nightstand next to me? A small upper loft within this room?
...I recognize this place.
The nightstand—it was only now that I realized there was a cup of water resting on top. The windows are enormous, and I almost forgot what the broad morning view of New York City was like. It certainly would be more gorgeous if the brilliance didn't cause my pounding headache to worsen.
It is strange how much effort I have to exert in order to even slide my arm out from under the warmth of the blanket.
My hand laid with a loud thump on the surface of the nightstand, rattling the glass and the liquid it contained. Bits and pieces of last night had started to rush back, and I began to nudge the cup over ever so slightly.
Until I accidentally pushed it too far towards the edge.
