Your phone rouses you, chirping out its wake up call from somewhere in the corner of the room. Stirring, you want so badly to ignore your alarm and drift back to sleep; your limbs feel like lead, and you have a piercing pain in your temples. There is a calm thumping by your ear, beating in opposition to the throbbing in your head.
Heartbeat.
You didn't leave the party alone last night.
Your eyes fly open, met so suddenly with the bright sunlight streaming through the window that a screaming pain shoots through your head and curdles your stomach. You curl up with a hissed gasp, rousing the man beside you. As he shifts, stretching and yawning, discovering his own aches. You frantically try to remember the night before, who you talked to, who you danced with, who you might have flirted with. The entire night is a haze, your hungover mind offering nothing helpful, the only two people you remember talking to at length were George and Amy...
Wait...
You force your eyes to open again, looking up into a vaguely familiar face. He rubs sleep from his eyes, and reaches up to rub his head, stopping suddenly when he feels you, still laying in his arms.
"Um..." The man mutters, looking at you with surprise,
"...yeah." You whisper, not knowing what to say,
"G'Morning?" Sebastian greets uncertainly,
"...yeah." You say again, rolling away from him and wrapping yourself in the bed sheet, suddenly hyper aware of your nakedness. You don't recognize the room, so you assume you're at his apartment, you don't even know where that is. A sudden panic rolls through you at the thought.
It's time to go.
You try to stand, wanting to get dressed and get out, but as soon as you sit up, the room tilts, wringing your stomach. Spotting the bathroom across the hall, you dart out of the room, bed sheet trailing after you, barely making it to the commode before you double over.
You juggle holding your hair back and keeping the sheet tight around you as you rinse your mouth out, and soon hear slow footsteps followed by a groan in the hall beside you as you're rinsing your mouth.
"Are you alright?" He asks softly as he stands in the doorway, having thrown on a pair of sweats, now squinting and holding his head, apparently not doing much better than you are.
"I'm fine," you croak, "just give me five minutes, I'll be out of your hair." You duck past him to go searching for your clothes from last night.
"Hey, don't be ridiculous, take your time, let me make you some coffee. I think we could both use it."
"I uh... I don't think that's such a great idea." You clear your throat, uncomfortable, embarrassed, though you weren't completely sure what about; from getting so drunk you don't remember the night before? From waking up next to a man you had only just met? Maybe a bit of both?
'This is why you sneak out when you have a one night stand, genius.' You scold yourself.
"Why not? It's just coffee. We're both hungover, I don't know about you, but sick as I feel, I'm also starving..." He sounds defensive.
"I just... I don't normally do this..."
By now you've finally found your phone and silenced the shrill ringing, your stomach drops when you take note of the time.
"No..." You gasp,
"What's wrong?"
"I was supposed to be at the studio for a shoot half an hour ago!" You tug your dress over your head, trying to formulate a plan to get your hands on something less formal for your day at work, surely a stop at your own apartment is out of the question. The thought makes you pause, turning to him as he leans against the doorjamb, eyes closed,
"By the way..." You start awkwardly, "Where exactly... Where are we? I have to be in the garment district... well... now."
"We're in the East Village." he murmurs, "I'll call you a cab, you can clean up here if you'd like." He leaves you to go grab his phone while you're rummaging for your jacket. You can only find one shoe,
"I really don't have time to clean up... I'm already late." You call to him, huffing out your frustration as you tug on your jacket, the sigh making your head throb again; you're still missing one shoe, but you pause quickly to text Amy, practically begging her to bring a few things to you at work when she has a chance. As she's currently between choreography gigs, she's been making her own hours, so she's your safest bet right now.
Sebastian reappears in the doorway, ending a call and handing you your missing shoe.
"Your cab should be here by the time you get downstairs. You sure I can't--"
"Why?" His brow furrows at the question, "Look, we don't have to make this any more than it really is. We were both really drunk..." His smile fades, you force yourself to get moving. "Thank you... For the cab. I'll uh... I'll find my way out."
He steps aside, letting you pass, not saying anything more and not looking you in the eye.
You rush down to your cab, trying to brush off the guilt.
It didn't mean anything. Really...
