Painting Flowers

Chapter 14

so yeah um sorry this wasnt up earlier but i had it written out a few weeks ago and wattpad just deleted it somehow?? so i had to rewrite it all and i put that off for ages bc im terrible at meeting deadlines as you most definitely know

but its here (finally) and um yeah ill hopefully get back on schedule after this ok thank you for reading ily bye

(Jack's POV again okay)

  I must've woken up with hangovers at least a dozen times. But that didn't mean that I'd gotten used to them, and I certainly wasn't immune to them after all the ones I'd had. 

  So when I felt myself stir awake with an absolute killer headache, I could only groan and stuff my face into the pillow beneath my head, squeezing my eyes shut and praying that this hangover would just fuck off. Well, I guess it was my fault for getting drunk last night; I couldn't even remember what had happened, and I just hoped I hadn't smashed a window or anything, 'cause I was so not paying for that. 

  "Hey, sleepyhead," a voice laughed from beside me, and I felt my body freeze. Had I had sex last night with someone? "God, you look like you got ran over by a truck."

  Okay. So I was in a bed with somebody, with, I realised, their arm wrapped around my waist. Right, yeah, I'd probably fucked someone last night. I turned my face over to look at them and apologise with a, 'yeah, sorry, I was drunk, you're lovely, it was me, not you, keep in touch,' and all that shit, but I stopped when I saw Alex smirking down at me. 

  Alex? 

  Oh. 

  Shit. 

  "Um," I said, gulping and rubbing at my aching forehead. His hair was all ruffled up and he was shirtless, scratching his toned stomach with a free hand. Okay. Okay, don't panic. You fucked your best friend who you kind of maybe have a crush on. No biggee. Right? "Wh... um..."

  He laughed, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled over at me. "Hey."

  Hey? We had sex and all he could say was 'hey'? Well, fuck. "Uh, Alex... last night, I... I, um, I was really drunk, I, like, didn't mean anything I did..."

  I saw his smirk falter slightly. "What?"

  "I don't remember anything," I told him, wincing as a shot of pain burst through my thumping head. "Ow, fuck. But, um, if I, like, said anything or did anything, I didn't mean it, 'cause, like, I was so wasted. So, um..."

  By now he was downright glaring at me. "What's that supposed to mean? You kissed me, did you, like... not want to?"

  Oh. God, this was going to be awkward. "I kissed you," I repeated, letting that sink in. I kissed him. Oh my god, I kissed him, and I didn't even remember it. "Right, well-"

  "Are you..." he interrupted me, but then he stopped, snatching his arm away from around my hips like I'd just burned his skin. "Are you just going to pretend that nothing happened?"

  I sighed and let my eyes slip closed for a moment. "I think it would be better for both of us if, like, we try and forget about this. I mean, we had sex, and I was drunk, we shouldn't want to remember that, right?"

  And by the look on Alex's face, I could tell that he was angry. No, scratch that, fucking mad. "We didn't have sex, you idiot."

  Wait. What? "We didn't have sex?" I questioned, and Alex nodded. "Well, then... why am I in... whosever bed this is, naked next to you? And why did you have your arm around my waist if we didn't fuck?"

  Alex scoffed. "You're not naked. You've got boxers on. Plus, don't flatter yourself. We didn't have sex because, like you said, you were drunk and I knew you wouldn't want to if you were sober." Debatable, I thought. "But then you got angry when I tried to stop you from, y'know, going down on me, and it was, like... I don't know, I thought you were going to rape me, because you were being all rough and trying to fucking tear my clothes off when I said I didn't want to. Honestly, it was kind of scary. But then I eventually got the message through your thick skull that I didn't want to have sex with you yet, and you just... stopped. Then you fell asleep, and I fell asleep too."