Aftermath of a drunk night out

All mistakes in this are my own. Wrote this up on my lunch break. I've never written anything like this before. Just a short Aidan fic to get me through the day. Enjoy!

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I woke to blinding sunlight pouring through the curtains, my head throbbing with the unmistakable aftermath of a drunk night out. The sheets tangled around me smelled like a mix of alcohol and regret.

As my blurry vision cleared, the first coherent thought that crossed my mind was, "Fuck, what happened last night?"

Slowly, bits and pieces of the evening floated back to me - too much liquor, loud music, and laughter that seemed to drown out any semblance of reason.

My mouth felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton. The taste of stale beer lingered on my tongue, reminding me of my drunken escapades.

I tried to sit up, only to notice a dried streak of blood on my forearm, a souvenir from a fall I barely remembered taking. Panic set in as I frantically searched my memory for how I got hurt.

Next to me, the bed was empty, the cold sheets a stark reminder of the mad girlfriend I had left waiting as I stumbled home in the early hours. She must have been livid, her anger justified by my irresponsible behavior.

The evening was supposed to be about us, maybe even end with us making love. Instead, it spiraled into a series of drunken mistakes.

The thought of sex seemed distant now, replaced by a heavy sense of guilt for putting yet another strain on our relationship.

I couldn't recall if we had fought before she stormed off to bed, or if she had even come to bed after tending to my drunk self.

My heart sank as I considered the possibility of her not wanting to deal with my antics anymore. I knew a sincere apology was in order, but the thought of facing her made my stomach churn, not from the hangover, but from fear of rejection.

I pulled myself out of bed, dreading the confrontation that awaited me. The silence of the apartment was unnerving, amplifying the pounding in my head with each passing second.

In the mirror, I saw a reflection of someone I barely recognized - bloodshot eyes, a bruised ego, and the physical manifestations of poor decisions written all over my face. The sight only fueled my resolve to make things right, to somehow explain that last night was a mistake, a lapse in judgment that I wouldn't repeat.

As I stepped out of the bedroom, I rehearsed my apology, each word carefully chosen to convey my remorse and the promise of change.

But there was no angry outburst, no cold shoulder, as I had braced myself for. Instead, I found her in the kitchen, her back to me, the tension in the air almost palpable.

The lump in my throat grew as I approached, the words of apology lodged within, struggling to find their way out.

When she did turn to face me, the look in her eyes was not one of anger, but of disappointment, a far more painful accusation than any words could convey.

We stood there, in the silence of our shared space, the aftermath of a drunk night laying the foundation for a conversation long overdue.

It was a moment of reckoning, a stark realization of how close I had come to losing everything over foolish antics fueled by alcohol.

The path to redemption would be long and fraught with challenges, but in that moment, I knew I had to try, for her, for us, and for the love that still lingered beneath the surface of our frayed relationship.

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If you've made it this far, thank you! I don't really know what this was. Just a little something that popped into my brain and needed to get out.

Until next time,

Nicki 🖤