Wasted

Chapter 53

A very short one, sorry!

My eyes slowly open, the light creeping through a small window without curtains. A light panic-attack takes over me when I realize I'm not laying in my own bed. I shoot up, what seen afterwards wasn't the best decision. A terrible headache makes me lay back down.

This may not be my bed but it isn't of a stranger either. I recognize the typical smell of.. Him. Slowly I come to the realization I'm laying in Louis' bed, wearing only panties, my bra and a shirt of his. Oh god.

My heart starts racing. Thinking again. I try to remember how I got here but last night is just a black hole. I don't seem to remember anything. Every time I do something spontaneous I seem to end up around Louis in some way.

I slowly slide the duvet aside and sit down on the edge of the bed. My head is killing me. I need an aspirin and fast. I look around the room, Louis nowhere to be seen. The door of his bedroom isn't completely closed, a light is coming through the small opening.

I stand up. My bare foot touch the cold floor and I feel my knees almost drowning under my weight.

I make my way to the door, opening is slowly, every fast action is too much for my head to handle. In the small living room is no one to be seen either, the kitchen empty as well. Where is he?

I saunter towards the small kitchen, open a cabinet to find a glass. I push some of the dishes aside to fill my glass with water.

I take a sip and take my glass with me to the living room. Let's find my clothes. I walk around, looking now and then. It's more like letting the memories I made in this room come back. The picture of Rosie on his dresser and the old couch. But also painful ones. Like the glass he threw against the wall, the small pieces are still spread across the floor. Tears make their way to my eyes but I refuse to let them break through.

Suddenly the front door opens, revealing Louis with a paper bag in his left hand, a carton with two cups of coffee in the other.

"Oh you're awake." He breathily laughs. He walks closer and puts the stuff down on the coffee table.

"Hi." He whispers.

"Hi." I answer. My eyes almost water by seeing his blue ones so hopeful. "I'm glad you didn't leave." He says. "I bought you some coffee and donuts."

"Louis." I sigh. "What am I doing here?" I cross my arms, not in frustration, just because of this awkward situation.

"I brought you some aspirins as well." He ignores the question.

"Louis.." I sigh.

"I knew you wouldn't remember.."

"Remember what?"

"Your little adventure last night, you were pretty wasted."

"I don't drink." I answer firmly.

"Well you seem to like vodka though."

"Why am I here? Where are my clothes? Why do I have this of an headache and why can't I remember anything?"

The question of the headache is already answered though. Why would I be drunk? I don't drink, like never.

"You're clothes are in the washing machine, they were dirty from the ground,"

"The ground?" I ask. What the hell.

"Oh jeez." Louis sighs.

"What the hell Lou? What happened to me last night?"

"I found you, on the ground outside a bar, you were drunk as hell." He says. "I brought you home and here you are."