Incandescent

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Last night came in unclear fragments and with a massive headache. I groaned. Oh no. "Here," a voice said, making my headache much worse. I managed to open my eyes a crack to look up at David. He's sitting beside me with a glass of water and a couple of pain killers in hand. I took them without hesitation and inhaled them. He chuckled to himself.

"How much did I drink last night?"

"Well....you almost drank the jet dry—" I groaned.

"I'm so sorry," I began, "I hope last night didn't ruin the image you had of me."

"I can't lie that has definitely changed," he laughed when I groaned. Jeez Louise Charley what have you done? I don't know what happened—the stewardess offered me one of those tiny bottles of vodka and I loved it. So I kept taking one each time she offered it. David tried to warn me that they were strong but I kept insisting I could handle it. "Not in a bad way. You are hilarious when you're drunk, I never laugh so much in my entire life."

"How embarrassing was I?" I asked and laid my head on his lap. My head felt too heavy to keep upright. I melted when he ran his fingers through my tangled hair.

"You didn't do anything," he assured gently, "you were so out of it you could barely walk straight so I carried you to the car. Since you were in no state to go to dinner we came here and Damien ordered pizza. You sobered up a bit and talked us into karaoke and charades, which you killed with your celebrity impersonations—" oh no. "You do a killer Jennifer Coolidge. I covered my face with my hands.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say Jennifer Coolidge," I said shyly, "I'm glad we had fun...even though I can't remember it."

"It's a shame cause man! Last night should be in the history books," he said, grinning.

"I'm glad you had fun," I said and fiddled with the zipper of his tank.

"Hungry?"

"Starving but I need this headache to subside before I can think of eating." I replied.

"Ok, I'll tell Damian to get breakfast started," he said and gently place my head onto a pillow.

"Uh...who's Damian again," I asked.

"My best friend," he replied, "—before I forget. This is the bathroom and your suitcase is in the closet. I'll be downstairs." He left and closed the door behind him. I lifted my head and my jaw dropped. The room is massive with dark green panel walls and dark floors. Ahead of the bed is a black, bricked fireplace wedged between two built in bookshelves and a dark, leather sofa beside a wooden side table. David's room, I surmised. I crawled out of bed to get a better look at the framed photos on the mantle. I smiled.

You were a cute kid—and that gorgeous smile has only gotten brighter. There are a few of him with his family and a lanky boy with large glasses. Damien, I presume. I tore my eyes away and got my suitcase out of David's massive walk-in closet. It's almost as big as my living room. Sheesh, would you like another roommate David? Though I can't afford any of this .

Once I was showered and done being nosy I made my way downstairs in a peachy romper. I found them in the kitchen that looks like it should be apart of a five star restaurant. "I'm telling you Dame, you won't like it," David was saying, "it's a blackhole of shit you don't need to be apart of." They're sitting at the island drinking coffee.

"I can handle it," Damien argued, "I can handle myself."

"You think you can," David said, sighing, "I'm telling you...don't go. Besides you don't know who will be in attendance. They could use—" he trailed off when he saw me, "you're up!" Damien's startling hazel eyes found me and a smile blossomed against his full lips, brightening his handsome face. I smiled back.