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Genevieve's eyes fluttered open, the morning light streaming through her curtains with a harshness that felt personal. Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat, each throb a reminder of the night before. She groaned, burying her face in the pillow as fragments of memories played like a slideshow in her mind--laughter, the clink of glasses, the warmth of John and Tim's arms around her.
She sat up, the room spinning slightly, and she pressed her hands to her temples. "Oh God," she whispered to the empty room. The weight of her actions, her flirtatious words she could barely remember uttering, pressed down on her.
With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet touching the cold floor. She needed water, aspirin, and maybe a time machine. She padded to the kitchen, her movements slow and deliberate, trying to piece together the night.
The more she remembered, the hotter her cheeks burned. She had been bold, too bold, with John and Tim. They had seen her at her worst, and the thought made her want to crawl under a rock. How could she face them at the precinct after this? Would they take her seriously again?
She filled a glass of water, the gulp she took doing little quench the dryness of her mouth or the embarrassment that parched her throat. She had to make it right, had to apologize for any lines she might have crossed.
Genevieve glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her usually neat appearance, disheveled. She squared her shoulders, determination settling in her bones. She would face this head-on, no running, no hiding.
She quickly got ready for the day, her appearance a stark contrast to the disheveled woman just an hour ago. Now, she was the picture of composure, her outfit pristine. Yet, beneath the surface, a storm of emotions raged.
She had always prided herself on her professionalism, her ability to keep a cool head in any situation. But last night had cracked that facade, revealing a side of her she hardly recognized--one that was reckless.
As she pinned her hair into place, Genevieve allowed herself a moment to reflect on the feelings that had bubbled up during her inebriated state. There was an undeniable pull towards John and Tim, a chemistry that didn't just evaporate with the morning sun. But she couldn't afford to indulge those feelings, not if she wanted to keep the little respect she has.
