The next morning*
I stirred, taking in a deep breath into my lungs.
“Urggh,” I mumbled, putting a hand to my throbbing head.
“I hope you’re feeling well because you have a breakfast meeting in less than an hour.”
I opened my eyes, looking over at Corey, who was standing on the opposite of the bed, holding a coffee mug and wearing a faint smirk.
“Uggghh,” I complained, unable to make words, just noises.
My head was killing me.
“I brought you coffee.” He extended the mug to me.
I pulled myself up slightly, taking the coffee. “What time is it?” I asked, my voice thick and raspy.
“7:14. You got back two hours ago and passed out on the bed. Literally, I think you blacked out.”
“Where’s Drake?”
“He passed out downstairs on the kitchen floor, in the process of making coffee I believe.”
I sipped from the mug. “Life is so gross right now.”
He smiled slightly. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You didn’t.”
“Wha-yes, I did!” He argued.
“I don’t remember that.”
He blinked, looking bewildered. “I sat there and told you fifteen times that drinking was a bad idea when you were getting ready to leave.”
“Huh. You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Do you not remember last night?”
I thought for a few moments. “…Drawing a blank.”
“Are you kidding me? Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“How much did you drink?”
“I don’t remember.” I shrugged.
He put a hand to his forehead. “You’re telling me you don’t remember anything?”
“Nada.” I moved off the bed, feeling stiff as I walked over to the closet with my coffee.
I was wearing the same outfit from last night. Not surprising.
“God only knows what you did.” Corey mumbled.
“I don’t even wanna know.”
“You reek of cigarettes and alcohol.”
“I’m not surprised.” I remarked casually, setting down my coffee so I could slide off my skirt to start getting changed.
There was no time for a shower this morning,
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, standing in my shirt, and my black curls were a frizzy, knotted mess. “Ugh,” I grimaced, raking my fingers through the disarray.
I saw Corey come up behind me in the mirror as I tried to fix my hair. “My hair is a mess.” I muttered pathetically.
“You’re a mess.” He added.
I rolled my eyes, giving up on my hair for the time being.
Bending down, I grabbed a faded blue band T-shirt from a shelf.
YOU ARE READING
An Undead Rebellion (Sequel)
VampireThe plot thickens as odd things start occurring involving vampires, and a set of mysterious murders plague the country. With a wedding coming up, and the duties of being a Queen, Arabelle has her hands full trying to balance her personal life and th...
