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WHEN DARYL WOKE UP the next morning, his head was pounding and his vision was initially blurred. Briefly, he cursed himself for drinking so much, but he did not regret it. After all, the world was fucked, so what better time to drink than that?
Slowly, the red neck pushed the duvet down his body and stood up from his bed. As he stretched, a tired yawn escaping his dry lips, he noticed how Ophelia did not even stir, but still slept soundly on her towel and scrunched up jacket.
He did not pay much attention to her face - only to her bloody and bruised knuckles. That must have been one hell of a punch, he thought, which poor bastard was at the end of that? It didn't surprise him that she had hit someone though, he didn't blame her, if he had a dollar for every time he wanted to hit someone within the group of late, Well he'd be a very rich man.
Stretching his arms above his head, he then left the room and made his way to the place he got drunk just last night. Everyone had been sat around the table, with the exception of a few, and all bid a hungover Daryl a good morning, as he made himself comfortable slightly further away from everyone.
Shortly after, Rick entered, his eyes tired and his face buried deeply within his hand as he sat himself next to his son. "Are you hungover? Mom said you would be."
Rick nodded at Carl. "Mom is right."
"Mom has that annoying habit." Lori had smirked, ruffling her sons hair. T-dog then came over, scooping some scrambled egg onto Ricks plate. "Eggs, powered...but I do em good, protein helps the hangover."
T-dog shortly handed Daryl a plate, he had shook his head at first, not feeling hungry, but T-Dog had practically shoved it into his hands, "come on man, eat." And Daryl had then mumbled 'fuck it' and ate the food whole.
Glenn had been suffering from the after affects of alcohol greatly as he mumbled, "Don't ever ever ever let me drink again."
The table lightly chuckled, Griffin briefly stating, "wait till you try Vodka. Now that, is awful for hangovers."
As everyone then began to ate their scrambled eggs, feeling normal for once, Shane then entered the room, sleepy and tired as he ran a hand through his raven curls. "Hey."
"Hey." Rick replied, tiredly looking up as his friend. "Feel as bad as I do?"
"Worse."
The two friends briefly smirked at one another, briefly recounting the days of which together they would hit the bar and come home drunk. They had been younger of course, but the memories were funny all the same.
