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Cordelia cursed at her past self.
Last night, the initial idea of drinking until she forgot everything seemed ideal, but now the repercussions were by far beating her ass. Her head wouldn't stop thumping, despite the amount of sleep she had gotten she could feel the growing bags under her eyes, and she was sure she looked like shit.
The fact that Vera still didn't pick up the phone in the morning seemed to make matters all the much worse. Vera always knew how to make Cordelia's hangovers feel just a little bit better, even if in return she'd ruthlessly scold her. Cordelia really missed her sister.
But all this thinking was also making her head seem to hurt worse. She let out a groan, head falling to the boy beside her's shoulder. Harry stilled at her actions.
"I'll get a car, and go to Greenwich to get some help," Cassandra spoke.
Harry scowled. "Why you?" He questioned. With his words, his body slumped forward into the palm of his hand. His eyes could barely stay open, and he gripped at his head to stop the pounding headache.
Cassandra turned to the group. "Someone has to find out where everyone went, we can't all go,"
"I'll do it," he declared once again, taking everything in him to open his eyes just a bit wider and sit up a bit straighter to prove his readiness.
Cordelia gave him an incredulous look as Cassandra asked about his sobriety. Why was he volunteering himself? On normal days he'd woken up with a hangover, the girl more than knew that Harry would be lazy and irritable. She rolled her eyes at his proposal.
Harry began to retort towards Cassandra's insult before Cordelia cut him off.
"You're not driving I am." Her hoarse voice brought all eyes to her. It was the first time she'd spoken over the last thirty minutes.
The boy beside her scoffed. "You're definitely not fucking driving."
"And you're definitely not fucking sober," Her quip elicited another scoff from the boy and she stood. Hand reaching out as she gave him an expectant look. The two stared at each other, eyes boring into the other' both unhesitant to back down. "I'm driving the fucking car," she stated.
Before he could even think, she had grabbed the keys from his grasp and bolted off to the church's parking lot.
"Cordelia you're not driving my fucking car!"
⎯⎯⎯⎯
The girl sent Harry an apologetic look from the driver's seat, her hand reached over the drivers' console to rest itself on his thigh.
"You know I'm just being cautious," she reminded the boy beside her. And his eyes closed in weariness as he accepted her touch, letting out a small grunt. Before he could second guess it, his hand came to place itself atop hers.
