The Russian Next Door

CHAPTER 20 - Hangover

I wake up as a ray of light strikes my face. It is so bright that it is practically burning my eyes. I move my head. Ah, much better. The rest of the room is dark enough. But my head is ready to explode anyway. I am having a hell of a hangover. I reach for my phone on the nightstand. But I can't find it. With a growl, I finally open my eyes and look around. Wait. This isn't my room. Where am I? I rewind the last night's events. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in Ivan's car. So, if this isn't my room, it could only mean two things. I am into Ivan's home, or Dimitri's. I look at the other side of the bed. It's empty. But his smell lingers around. I am in Dimitri's room, that's for sure. And I am alone, so that means that he is either at work or somewhere around the house. Am I ready to face him after last night? No, I'm surely not.

I turn my head around, exploring the surroundings. I eye a chair that has my dress on it. Does this mean that I am naked? I get the covers off me. No, I'm not naked. But I am wearing one of his T-shirts. I bring it to my nose and take in a deep breath. I could never get tired of this smell. Wait. Does this mean that we...that we....did it? And I can't remember a fucking thing? This is a very spectacular way to lose your virginity. And only I could have done this kind of crap.

I finally manage to get out of the bed and then head outside. I slowly get downstairs. His apartment resembles mine. Except the fact that his is very clean. Duh, he is a Marine after all. Well, was, practically. But old habits die hard. I get to the living room and it's empty and dark. Thank God that the curtains aren't allowing the sun to enter the room.

'Dimitri?' I say, almost whispering. The kitchen's door opens and there he comes. I am so ashamed of myself that I can't even look him in the eyes. So I stare at my toes instead. I feel like a fourth grader who has been caught eating glue or something.

'Good morning, Rose.'

'Um, hi.' I babble still looking down.

'Here, take this' he says handing me an aspirin and a huge glass of water. 'For your headache. Drink it up.'

I take them and don't utter a word. I realize that my mouth is as dry as a desert. After gulping all the water, I lower the glass and look at him for the first time. He looks so calm. But I expect him to explode any second. That there my friends, is just the calm before the storm.

'Would you like to take a shower?' I nod. 'Okay. You can go and take another T-shirt from my closet and help yourself. I am going to make you breakfast.'

'Thanks, but you don't have to bother, really. I should better go in fact.' I say as I play with the edge of the T-shirt.

'Rose.'

'Yeah?'

'Go.'

And I go, because I don't want to piss him off. I don't want to see him again like I did yesterday. He could barely keep himself together. And all because of me. Because of all the stupid things I keep on doing.

I get back to his room and take a black T-shirt of his. I go to the bathroom and undress. Weird thing, my underwear is still on. Did I put it back after we did it? Did he? Have we really done it? I must find some way to ask him. I really have to know.

I get under the hot water and I instantly relax. I cover myself with his shower gel. It says white musk. And so I have finally unraveled the mystery of Dimitri's secret scent.

As I make my way downstairs for the second time, I realize that my headache isn't so bad anymore. Now I am just fiercely hungry. So I head to the kitchen. I open the door and my stomach starts to growl from the wonderful smell, and my heart starts to pound faster as I watch him cooking. Why is it so hot to see a man cooking?

'Come in, sit.' he says without turning.

He sets another full glass in front of me. 'Drink all of it.' I smell it.

'What is this?'

'Coconut water. It helps with the rehydration.'

Next thing, he sets on the table some plates. Scrambled eggs. Bacon. A bowl of oatmeal and a jar with honey. And a multitude of fruits: blueberries, avocado, oranges, and bananas. I eat as much as I can. The fact that I barely touched any food since Sunday combined with this drinking escapade, turned me into some scrawny. The whole time, he is leaning on the counter, with his hands crossed. He still looks calm. But when is the lecture coming? Soon, I can feel it.

As I was eating my damp hair kept falling over and I kept pushing it away but it would continue to fall because it was heavier than usual. He slowly came behind me and took my hair into his hands.

'It's okay, I can do it. I only need a hair band.'

'No, let me. You eat.' And he began braiding my hair.