Byron's Secret (Slenderman Romance)

Chapter 13. Good Morning?

Saturday

【Joy's POV】

I sneezed and shivered as I felt myself laying on a cold something I don't even know. I impulsively sat up but immediately regretted it. My head had hit something hard because, well, I don't know . . .

Maybe because I was sleeping under the damn table!?

I groaned in pain as I held my forehead. What am I even doing in the living room? I don't remember anything last night . . . what did I even－Oh, right, bar, drinking, then . . . Blah, I can't think straight right now.

I looked hazily in front of me, trying to clear my blurry vision by blinking multiple times, I only then realize how my head was pounding so much. The good thing was that my body felt fine, just a little worn out. Lucky . . . I usually get hangover. How did I even get this drunk? I thought I made a promise not to drink too much before leaving home . . .

Oh, wait. Ryan. I get it now. Him challenging me to a drinking contest, and I foolishly accepted because I thought it would be fun somehow.

Well, it was fun after all. I just don't remember how I got home.

As I slowly pieced everything together, a foreign thing caught my eye. It was a shoe, and it was obviously not mine. Moreover, I was wearing a right shoe on my left foot. It's a shoe for a guy, a man. Holy shit . . . what did I do last night?

Panicked, I stood up and toppled over as everything moved like the entire universe has gone haywire. As I leaned on the wall to regain my balance, I nearly shouted when I saw a familiar someone on the couch, fast asleep.

If this was a cartoon, my eyes would've sprung out of my head because of how wide they were. What on earth is Byron doing in my house, asleep on the sofa?

. . . Fuck, I can't remember anything!

Furthermore, he is missing a shoe! I am wearing his shoe! Why am I wearing his shoe!?

No, why am I worrying about the goddamned shoe, why was he here!? I seriously can't remember, I just remember drinking with Ryan while he was just there staring at us like the others and then . . . nothing.

Byron was slouched against the couch and had his elbow propped on the armrest while leaning his head on his hand. And he still isn't awake after the loud bump my head made with the table.

Urrg. Okay, okay . . . I still had all my clothes on and he has his－except his shoe. Nothing happened, and that was a relief to know. Though I still don't understand what would bring him here in the first place.

Not knowing what to do and to my dizziness, I sat down on the ground and stared at him with wide eyes. Well, I can't help but feel weirded out, this is the first time something like this happened to me since I live with my whole family ever since I was a baby.

Why Byron out of all people? We're not even in close terms!

I shook my head, hoping to clear my fuzzy mind and calm down. After moments of breathing in and out, thinking of random things, I finally got a hold of myself. I stood back up, still a bit lightheaded, and took a step closer to Byron. He looks so vulnerable, he's not even moving.

I gasped.

Is he dead?

Oh, no, wait, he's breathing, my bad. That was a stupid thing to think, maybe I'm still drunk after all.

I leaned down and stared at him before raising a hand and poking his cheek. Yet he didn't even make a fuzz, he must be exhausted . . . though I don't know why. I repeatedly and softly stabbed his cheek with my cold fingers.