Sleeping With a Friend

Chapter Seven

A loud groan left my mouth as I stretched out my arm, feeling my tense muscles loosen up only a tad. There was an unpleasant pounding sensation in my head that I knew wouldn’t be easy to make go away. I had always enjoyed seeing the beautiful sunlight peek through my window on any normal morning, like a fresh start to a new day—but today was a different story. Another groan left my lips as I stuck my head under my pillow, trying to hide as much as I could from the glow that was very prominent in my room. My eyes felt like they were glued together and my face felt so sticky. I slid my hand to my face under the pillow and began rubbing my eyes, feeling the stickiness rub off onto my fingers. With the way I was feeling, I could probably stay this way for the duration of my day.

Wait. Day? It was Friday. The sun was up. I’m supposed to be at work right now. Shit shit shit.

I flipped over and threw the pillow off my face in one swift motion. I looked at the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand right next to me—11 am. I couldn’t believe it. It was probably too late to go in now, my boss would just tell me to go back home. Not to mention from the fast movement I suddenly felt like I was about to throw up. I sat still for a moment, moving my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I took slow, deep breaths, trying to gain some more consciousness, but the pounding in my head would not subside.

“Oh god,” I sigh of exhaustion left my lips. I gussied up the energy to bring myself out of bed and then I realized I couldn’t find my phone. I usually kept it on the nightstand with the alarm, but for some reason it wasn’t there. I trudged around my room in search for the device that held everything and everything. In the search, I caught a glimpse of what I looked like in the mirror, my makeup and hair looked like a total disaster. I looked like I had just walked out of a hurricane. My body was still covered in the dress I had worn out last night. And suddenly the memories came flowing back. I couldn’t remember how much I had to drink, but from my appearance I could assume it was a lot.

I unzipped my dress and let it fall to the ground, reaching my arms above my head to stretch out my back—my muscles still feeling stiff. I was still in my strapless bra and thin lace panties, but I didn’t feel like putting on anything different. I guess that went to show what type of day I planned on having. I stared at myself in my mirror and I ended up laughing at myself. I looked like such an idiot, I had no clue how I got home or what even happened after a certain point in last night. I grabbed my hairbrush and began brushing through the many naughts in my hair. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable that dress was until I was out of it and free from the restraint. Once I finished brushing out my hair I turned to flip my head over, making it easier to put it up in a high bun. I stood back up, yawning for what must have been the fifth time since I got up from the bed.

“I see you’re final-“ I shot my head to the side, seeing my bedroom door open and right between the door frame was Ashton, standing with his mouth formed in the shape of an “o”. My eyes opened wide as I saw him there, my heart beating fast. I looked down, realizing my lack of clothing.

“Shit.” I mumbled, reaching over to grab the cover off my bed and held it up against my body. “Um what the hell?” You said in a shaky tone, feeling the rush of blood rise up to your cheeks, you could have sworn on the outside your face was as red as Larry the lobster from SpongeBob.

“S-sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in.” He admitted, embarrassed.

“No I meant what the hell are you doing in my apartment?!” I raised my voice to get the point across. “Wait…did we..?”

Ashton chuckled, “No, no we didn’t do anything. I stayed the night to make sure you were gonna be alright.” He continued laughing, “You are quite the persistent drunk Y/N.” Ashton walked into my room and sat on my bed. I fastened the blanket around my body, taking a step back to rest my backside against the dresser.