Drunk Texts

4

"why cant everything be as beneficial as whiskey or coffee."

"because believe it or not Hun, some people don't have anyone to miss and they actually get enough sleep" from her pile of tangled blonde hair and knitted duvets on the sofa Amy's eyes peek out of the hybernation she was just in.

"sorry i didn't mean to interupt you two" she looks pointedly towards the coffee mug her friend was just talking to.

"shouldn't you be at work?" amy asked after folding her blankets over the back of the sofa and pouring herself a cup of black coffee.

"i told ronny about our kareoke stand off and he excused me for the day, saying his appologies for the hangover he told me I had to have."

laughing together always made heather feel that much better about her day, not only has she gotten through an hour without thinking of him, but shes showered and her legs are shaven and her boss slash brother has given her the day off. nothing could ruin her today..

"do you even have a head ache?" amy asked while they stood over the sink rincing their mugs

"nothing a tylonal hasn't already fixed." heather grinned from behind her windwhirl of chocolate locks.

"sneaky girl, ronny is such a twat sometimes, what will you do with your day off?"

"i was thinking a hair cut, maybe ill finally change it up," if amy doubted her friend she didnt show it. with a smile and a peck on the cheek she wished her luck at the salon.

"ive gotta run, call me at lunch."

///

its been ages since he pulled her hair around his manly fist, since he stuffed it into his face and groaned from the enjoyment of her green apple and cinnoman shampoo, she can't even remember what it feels like to have his fingers brush out the tight knots while they watched some t.v.

but when the stylist asked how much she wanted to take off she thought immediatly of telling him, warning him not asking.

at one time she would have grown to her knees if he asked.

and when she held up a finger asking the stylist to wait as she opened his message history, she lost all her balance although she was sitting. disorientaded, she read and reread, etching every word of drunken stupidity into her brain, as if the words had power they punched her in the face and she couldn't breath from the impact

"what did i do," she sobbed on her way back to the car