Just a Colleague A.U | l.h

Just a Colleague : Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three : Recap of a Drunk Quinn

"Fuck", I hissed, the shade behind my eyelids being a blinding ivory.

I instantly opened them in a hurry, finding that my vision without my eyelids was just as bad, the sweltering ball of gas leering in at me as if it were scolding me. And that was exactly when I realised that I was out last night, but I didn't remember a second of it right now with my head throbbing.

A groggy, tiresome groan fell from my parted lips as I pressed my palm to my forehead feebly.

It was only then that I seemed to decipher that I wasn't actually in a familiar room and I was quite startled. I leisurely began to sit up, breathing deeply at the pounding in my head. I started out of the door way slowly, dragging my toes against the flooring as I pushed each door down the hall open until I had found one where a figure was curled beneath sheets.

Quietly, I sauntered towards the framework, gasping at the sight of Mr Hemmings' familiar hair which had been tousled.

I clutched at my head, muttering profanities under my breath. I hadn't a clue of what was going on and quite frankly, I was curious to know.

Curious.

Fuck, that was what had me in this situation initially.

"Mr Hemmings", I grumbled, pushing at his blanket-clad shoulder gently.

I had no view of his face, but I knew it was him because the tousled, dirty-blonde clutter atop his head was recognisable.

"Mr Hemmings", I mumbled, crouching down to shake him awake although he wouldn't budge.

I groaned quietly, spinning his body around so he was now facing me and I couldn't help but gawk at him. His plump, rufescent lips were parted, hot, deep breaths leaving them every few seconds. His lengthy, chestnut lashes rested against his cheekbones, jawline prominent. The dirty-blonde stubble which lathered his chin travelled upwards, reaching his sideburns.

"For fucks sake, Mr Hemmings", I breathed, completely flustered and overwhelmed at how hot he was.

I rested my palm against his cheek for seconds before slapping it ever so slightly.

"Mr Hemmings", I repeated.

His lips pressed in a thin line, adam's apple bobbing up and down before a low groan escaped his lips and fuck, was it hot.

"Quinn?" Mr Hemmings rasped.

"It's me, sir", I confirmed.

"Alright, hang on", he replied hoarsely, tossing the blankets off of his body.

I swallowed thickly, my lips pressing in a thin line tightly as I greedily eyed his boxer-clad body. The entirety of his body was a pale shade, his growing muscles contracting as he sat up and stretched out his limbs - something I hadn't done this morning.

I breathed in his familiar scent, my eyes almost rolling to the back of my head. It was incredibly overwhelming, the strength of the scent.