How hard can it be to fall in love with a football player when you're afraid of footballs...?
---
Helping out her best friend by playing the lead in that music video project for university had seemed like an easy enough feat for art student Lorelai...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lorelai woke up tired and with a hangover — but also strangely satisfied. Her throat was dry, her tongue and throat felt like made out of paper. She was thirsty. Her lips felt tender and swollen as she wetted them with her tongue. The soft sunlight that managed to make its way through the curtains hurt her eyes. The world looked tilted in a weird way as she blinked cautiously. Dear universe, please stop spinning!, she thought.
She grumbled and laid a hand on her forehead, feeling the aftermath of too much alcohol in form of a migraine, but thankfully, not a heavy one. As she turned to the side and fought the faint feeling of nausea, she realised that she was completely naked underneath the blanket. Quickly, she looked to the side, but she was alone in her bed. Her head started to pound uncontrollably and she immediately regretted her fast movement. Lying back down, she tried to remember what happened last night.
That fight with Neymar was there in her mind, in bits and pieces. Alcohol, lots of it, consumed by her and some people she knew from uni. Jane and Diego nowhere in sight. The performance of the band with her and Neymar on stage. And then the footballs. And....
Lorelai groaned.
Right.
Sex with Neymar.
Wonderful, amazing sex with Neymar. Mind blowing, actually.
Oh God, why did I let this happen?, she asked the deity she didn't believe in. Maybe He had the answer to that question, since she herself clearly didn't.
Well, at least she remembered; which was odd in itself, what with her proneness to blackouts. Another groan escaped her. On the night stand at the foot of her bed she found a glass of water and several white tablets; Aspirin or something of the kind. Grateful for having such great roommates (no matter how many times Jane said she didn't live here), Lorelai swallowed one of the tablets and drowned the water in several eager gulps. After that, she settled back into the pillow with a content sigh.
As she spread her arms on the mattress on both sides of her, her fingers came into contact with a small, rough material. The crackling sound it made upon contact told her it was something made of plastic. She picked it up to look at it.
Yep, those were the torn up remnants of a condom wrapper.
Good, at least they'd been smart enough to think about protection and make use of the package Lorelai had stored in the top drawer of her night stand just in case. (Because every girl should have a box of condomsnext to her bed, full stop. No condom, no way. No glove, no love.) She sat up to throw the wrapper in the tiny bin next to the night stand, only to find that several others had already been thrown in along with the used condoms. She arched an eyebrow, thinking back to what happened — how many rounds exactly had they had...?
She came up with several — and oh so exciting — images muddled together. Or maybe she and Neymar had been the ones doing the muddling? In any case, they made her become conscious of the throbbing in her nether regions, which indicated to a night well spent (if the pictures in her mind weren't enough).
