The first thing I was aware of when I first woke up was a dull, throbbing pain in my legs. They were extended straight out in front of me, and had stayed that way presumably for the two hours I had slept. My head rested against the side of the bed’s mattress, and Linc’s large hand rested atop it. Even though I tried my best to extricate myself from the uncomfortable position without waking him, the movement under his palm, no matter how infinitesimal, woke him.
He shot upright with a startled snort and the very first thing I noticed was that he was still wearing the floral printed dress. Part of me wanted to giggle because he was in a dress and had yet to figure it out, and the other part of me cringed at the thought of what he may possibly do when he sobered up enough to realize that he was actually wearing it.
For a few moments, Linc just seemed dazed as he blinked his green eyes rapidly, trying to adjust them to the light level in the room. In a naïve attempt to help him, I rushed over to the other side of the room and flicked the lights on.
That was probably the worst thing I could have done in that situation.
“ARGH!” Linc fell backwards, arms shielding his eyes from the sudden light. “Turn the lights off!” He shouted, before groaning again in pain at the sound of his own voice.
I hurriedly switched the lights back off, mentally kicking myself for my stupidity. He had had too much to drink last night. Too much to drink equals hang over. Hang over equals light and sound sensitivity. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I’m so sorry!” I whispered. If he heard me, he gave no sign that he had for he continued to groan while curled in the fetal position.
After a few minutes of that, Linc finally decided that is was time to chance a look around at his surroundings. He seemed fine for a few moments until he happened to look down at himself and noticed the pink dress.
“Why... am I wearing… a dress?” His voice was deathly quiet; whether it was out of fear of hurting his ears again or because he was beyond infuriated, I didn’t know.
One of my arms moved upwards so that I could cup the back of my neck with my hand, “Er... Because you were drunk?”
“And no one stopped me from putting the dress on?”
“Uh, well, no. You were very adamant about how beautiful you looked in it.”
Linc was silent for a few moments, “How much did I drink?”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek for a few moments, I guesstimated the amount of alcohol he had consumed from the bottle of vodka he had been holding. “About a fourth of a bottle of vodka.”
Linc grimaced and ran a hand over his face, elongating his features momentarily. “How long have I been out?”
“Two hours or so?” The music was still thumping outside, so I assumed the party was still going.
With another groan, Linc fell back on the pillows and laid still. “How many people did you say witnessed my little… outburst?”
I bit my lip, hesitant to let him know that almost the entire party had seen him dance around in a dress.
“Well?”
“…Just a few.”
A quiet moan escaped from his lips, “You are such a terrible liar, Ms. Palmin.” Linc shifted around on the bed so that his face was buried in the pillows. “I will never drink again.”
“I’m going to just… go.” I started to edge towards the door, careful not to make too much noise on the way.
He didn’t respond.
Carefully, I twisted the knob and stepped out into the hallway where the thumping music was much louder. I settled my ear against the door and covered the other with my hand. It wasn’t long until I heard him snoring again.
~~
Cleaning up after a major party has never been considered fun in the history of mankind.
Cleaning up after a major party with a very hung-over Brit whining the whole time is even less fun. In fact, it would be rather safe to say that trying to put up with Linc while he was hung-over was comparable to trying to deal with a thousand toddlers on a sugar rush.
“Would you kindly shut up? My head already hurts enough without having to listen to your inane babbling.” Linc’s voice whipped out, but no one really paid any attention to him; mostly because no one was actually talking.
“That’s the radio,” Callie sighed, pushing her now-limp hair out of her face and throwing an empty plastic cup into a nearby garbage bin.
The Brit’s only response was a pained groan. I glanced over at him as I bent to retrieve a crumpled streamer from the floor. His eyes were squinted against the light, and he actually wasn’t doing much besides complain and mumble unintelligible words to himself. Once in a while, he would clap his hands over his ears when someone did say something, and whimper pathetically. It was definitely a side of Linc I had never seen before.
“Is he always like this?” I murmured to Callie as we both went to clean up another room.
She laughed quietly, “No. This is actually one of his better times.” Smiling and shaking her head, she pulled a paper plate out of a lamp shade. “Honestly, if I weren’t his sister I don’t think I would put up with him as much as I do.”
“Sister?” I stared at Callie incredulously, not believing what I was hearing. Weren’t they together? A couple?
Her thin shoulders moved up and down carelessly, “Half-sister technically. I don’t sound it, do I?” A brief chuckle escaped her lips. “Different mothers, same father. Gale Kingsman. My mom is Lucy Strumm.”
“Which one of you is—“
“Older?” She cut me off. “I am. But just barely.” Callie sighed heavily and shook her head, eyes on the floor as if she were ashamed, “Gale had an affair with my mother. Mom found out he was married, and left him and came here to America.” Quickly, she flipped some light brown hair out of her face, “I was born here and didn’t even know I had a half-brother until Linc came here from England with Gale and Maria a few years back.” A small smile curved her lips towards the heavens, “We hit it off straight away.”
“Uh, wow.” Was my inadequate response to her short story.
“Haha, yeah, it’s a little much to take isn’t it? What with your thinking we were a couple, and all.”
My cheeks colored at her words, and I found myself stammering, “H-how did you—I mean, uh…”
Her clear laughter filled the room, “I’m not dense, Aislyn, I pick up on things. Like your little crush on Linc.”
If it were possible, my face turned an even darker shade of red, and I found butterflies assaulting the walls of my stomach. “Is it that terribly obvious?”
“Not to a guy, no. But give me some credit, chica, I’m a girl. So, I can read other girls much better than a guy ever could.”
“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” I was anxious to hear her answer; and I began to fidget with the hem of my shirt out of nervousness.
“What? Of course not!” She placed one hand over her heart dramatically and rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling. “I’m hurt that you would even suggest I would do such a thing!” As I began to apologize, she cut me off—“Don’t worry, Ais-y, dear! Your secret is safe with me.”
///
Grargh. You hate me. I hate me. Let's have a hate party!
Hahaha, sorry for not uploading in... a month. >.<" I sorries.
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Learning to be Beautiful
Teen Fiction"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in...
