Unexpected (A Chris Hemsworth Fanfiction)

Chapter 4: The Morning After

My eyes began to open slowly and I moaned. I hated the morning, especially when I'm hungover. I most definitely was, still the worst I've ever had. The lack of sleep didn't help my cause either. I regretted not liking sleep as a child because it meant I hardly got any; even when I was given the choice to. It's all I craved yet I didn't have the opportunity since I worked my ass off. I stretched and when I placed my hand down, I felt something strong and firm. I wasn't alone.

I silently squeaked in surprise. I must have brought someone to the penthouse last night. Finally my vision started to kick into gear and I saw I wasn't in my penthouse. Whose bed was I in then? I looked beside me and there as clear as day was the man I had only officially met yesterday: Chris Hemsworth. Girls would only dream of this, except I was too startled to even ponder that.

I bit the blanket and screamed. Not only was I sexually assaulted last night, I slept with Chris Hemsworth. I slept with fucking Chris Hemsworth!  Damn it! I slept with a guy I hardly knew. I decided to hastily run to the bathroom and make a quick escape. Maybe we could both pretend that it never happened. Perhaps, we could both shake this off as nothing and go back to our lives of pretending the other doesn't exist. We'd only have a month or so to deal with the looming company of our actions.

I yawned and splashed water in my face. I looked into the mirror and saw my reflection. I tried to cover myself. I knew no one could lay their eyes on me; yet I felt vulnerable. I was fully nude.

You would've never known I was a prep school girl because this was scandalous. I didn't just sleep with Chris Hemsworth. I did a hell of a lot more than that!

"Oh God! Oh God! Damn it!" I whispered loudly. I breathed deeply to try to keep myself calm. "Everything's going to pan out! Nothing unexpected is going to happen," I continued to tell myself that. The idea of Plan never crossed my mind and am I glad it didn't in the end. 

However I really couldn't have prepared myself then for what was to happen, so I did the only thing I could think to: quietly to try to find my clothes. I needed to get out. I was even more embarrassed about this than I had anything else in my life. My ensemble from last night was scattered all along the floor. My blouse was strewn across the couch. My jeans were draped over the coffee table like a combination of a curtain and table cloth. My bra was stationed by the screen door. Finally, worst of all, and I can't even comprehend how this happened, my underwear were hanging from the light above the dining table. What the hell happened?

Wow! Last night we were very discreet, I pondered to myself on the verge hyperventilation.  I was really starting to question how crazy last night actually was. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. What it left behind was graphic frankly. My head began to hurt and it screamed for painkillers. I couldn't deal with it then. Truly I'm not sure if I can now truly.  Then I heard a cell phone ring. I looked to Chris's side of the bedside table. I'm surprised the man hadn't woken up yet. Can he sleep through anything? Seriously, I ask myself this daily and resent him for it.

However, I took the liberty of answering. 

"Hello, Chris! Are you there?" It was Paul.

"Umm," I replied.

"Perry?" he questioned. "Why the hell do you have Chris's phone?"

"Umm," I had to think fast and tried a terrible accent while coughing. "Yes this is Chris. Who's Perry?"

"Oh sorry. Perry is our on-set screenwriter," Paul shrugged it off. "Where are you? We're filming the bike scenes today."

"Ummm. Yeah, about that Paul," despite a skull with a heartbeat, I managed to think of a variety of excuses to come up with, "I'm sick and I can't even get out of bed."