The first thing I realized when I woke up was the absolutely horrible taste on my breath - not that I hadn't become used to it in my many days waking up with a hangover but every time it still managed to surprise me with exactly how awful it was.
I sat up as slowly as possible and probably groaned multiple times, a blanket hanging over me helped keep the sun from my eyes but the room still spun a little more than it should.
I felt a burning in my stomach and was undoubtedly ready to throw up, so as steadily as I could, I got up from the couch, walking in what I assumed was the right direction. Something met my foot and I immediately lost my balance, falling directly on top of something, which as soon as I noticed my face was directly in the middle of her chest, I realized that she was completely unconciouse on the floor.
Me falling on top of her should have definitely woken her up, but for some reason she was still laying there as I sat up clumsily and started mumbling 'sorry's only for them to be lost in the sound of the A/C and her shallow breathing.
I then bolted to the bathroom, thankfully making it into the toilet as everything from last night got puked up along with my memory somewhat returning.
I looked into the bathroom mirror, my cheeks light pink partially from the exertion of having my intestines puked into the toilet and I assumed the rest of the pink was because I had realized that yet again had I been a complete asshole.
I remember singing, which I was more than proud of because I know my voice is better than average, and she seemed completely hypnotized by it, but then I had to go getting drunk, and things started spiraling from there.
Could you blame me? I've got this new job which is great - but quit frankly it doesn't pay nearly enough and I'm stuck in a crappy apartment with nothing but empty beer bottles and memories of what once was when I lived in my parents apartment and actually got decent meals, so if someone else is offering to pay for my alcohol I'll sure as hell take it, and if someone allows me to sleep in their apartment and puke in their toilet - especially a cute girl - then who am I to reject it?
A few splashes of cold water on my face and I felt the tiniest bit more willing to face the sun, and most of all her.
I walked down the hallway which took about three steps and then I was in the living room standing there staring at the pale girl who was completely oblivious that my face had been accidentally stuffed in her breasts only minutes earlier.
I remember the couch, but what exactly had happened? There was something about a blanket, and I remember her, oh dear God please tell me I didn't...
I immediately checked that my pants were intact, and hers were too, and took a deep breath of relief.
But why do I remember seeing her, underneath me, cutely intense eyes and short breaths, it was the perfect image, I don't know how I could imagine everything up to the feeling of her body pressing against mine, my imagination has never been that great.
I must've done some awful shit last night, I mean, if I had climbed on top of her, she probably hadn't consented to it, who's to say if I've kissed her or not?
First thing was to get rid of my headache just in case, in the event of waking up, she remembers something such as me kissing her and decides to yell at me, so I hastily searched my pockets and breathed another sigh of relief with the discovery of two very unorganized cigarettes sitting inside of a crinkled box.
I grabbed one, lighting it, and sitting against the couch, staring down at her and feeling a slight bit of warmth wash over me, probably from the nicotine, but I'd like to think that her and I had some sort of special connection.
