From Autumn to Winter: A Winterwidow College AU

Why Must You Make it so Hard Not to Love You?

Natasha

Ow. That's all I can think when I wake up. My head is pounding, my muscles are sore, my mouth was incredibly dry, and I'm incredibly nauseous. Hello hangover. Nice to see you.

I open my eyes. Wait. Where the hell am I? Whose jacket is this? Whose bed is this? Why are there no sheets on it? I'm overcome with questions I can't answer. I really don't like this feeling. I hear a quiet clash outside the bedroom. Quietly, I place my feet on the cold hardwood floor. I'm still in my party clothes, so at least none of my clothing was removed. My heels have been placed right next to the bed. I think the only other thing that's different is the warm and oversized jean-jacket that's been wrapped around me. It smells like coffee, cardamom, and cedar. The strongest smell on it was cologne. It didn't smell overwhelming or cheap though. It smelled clean and fresh. It was actually really nice. I think the jacket smells a little like alcohol, but that's probably me.

I heard another clash in the kitchen. Tip-toeing across the room, I started to smell food. I peered my head around the corner of the wall that separated the bedroom and the kitchen. There was someone standing at the stove cooking. He was tall and had fluffy brown hair. He looked so familiar. He turned his head to look at me. James? The slats of light coming through the blinds are cast onto his face, giving him a warm glow.

"Good morning, Natasha." he said cheerfully. I cast a glance around the apartment. It's completely empty except for the many boxes that have been stacked in various places around the room. "Oh, and sorry about the mess. The moving van came about an hour ago and I haven't really had time to unpack." he says without looking up from whatever he's cooking. How did I get here?

He finally turns around. "Breakfast?" he says holding the frying pan out. It contains scrambled eggs. I let the smallest sliver of a grin come to my face. "I'll take that as a yes. I have to ask... "I feel like I should ask. What happened last night?" I ask. He stops for a moment while he puts the eggs on a plate and then continues. "We don't have to talk about it unless you want to." Well that makes me feel a lot better. My nausea just got a little worse. "What happened, James?" I ask again.

He pours me a glass of orange juice as I sit down at the island in the kitchen. How does he look so good when he does that? "Okay," he sighs as he puts the plate and glass down in front of me. "I have to say before I start that by the time I came to take you home, you had already passed out, so I don't know how much of this is true." I nodded.

"Okay. Steve and I were still in his dorm room. As I was getting up to leave, Steve's roommate came in saying he had just come from the bar you work at. He said he left because the bartender there had gotten drunk and became loud and inappropriate." Oh, God. I don't get embarrassed that easily, but this is just unbearable. Nicole would probably fire me today. Great. Another problem to add to my increasingly long list. My headache is getting worse every minute.

"So I left Steve's dorm and went straight to get you. When I got there, Nicole had already called a cab and was waiting for it. She took me back to the room where you had passed out. I waited with you until the cab came, and then took you here, since I didn't know where your dorm was. I put you on the bed, then went out to the store to get some food to make breakfast."

So let's break this down. I got drunk and loud on the job in front of a fellow college student, passed out and my boss had to call a ride for me, and had to be taken home by a guy who I just met and kind of find attractive. That definitely didn't help my stomach and I was suddenly very dizzy. Somehow, James senses this and his eyebrows go up. "The bathroom is on right in the bedroom."

I get up and quickly walked to the bathroom, where I promptly threw up. Luckily, I managed to reach the toilet in time. I tried my best to keep it at bay, but I couldn't fight it anymore. I started to cry, something I also don't usually do. I'm so uncomfortable and self-conscious right now. Can I just shrink away and hide for a little bit? That would be great. After what feels like an hour, but was probably more like fifteen minutes, I hear a knock at the bathroom door. It's not closed, but he doesn't look in. "Hey," his voice is soft. "Can I come in? I've got some things for you."

"Come in." I manage to choke out. He slowly opens the door. Switches off one of the lights. It makes my eyes feel a lot better. It helps my headache a bit too. One of the lights is still one, and I can see James just enough to see him frown when he comes in. "That bad, huh?" I say, my voice tight and thin. He comes in and sits on the bathroom floor with me, his back against the door. He hands my a bottle of water. When I hesitate to take it, he says "Trust me. I know a thing or two about hangovers." Another tear falls from my face as I take the bottle. He's still frowning at me. I hate being pitied. I know that when someone pities me they're just trying to show sympathy, but I feel like a charity case. I don't like depending on others. It makes me feel like I can't stand on my own.

"Since you just met me, I feel obligated to say this. Last night was an exception." Another tear falls. "I'm not usually like that." James's face softens. "We all have those nights." he says reassuringly. "I know you just met me, but if you want to talk about anything, you can talk to me, okay?" His voice is small, but warm.

"Why are you being so nice to me? You barely know me." I croak. This makes him smile for some reason. "You were nice to me. Why shouldn't I return the favor?" He's more trusting than I could ever be. "And because I know drinking away your problems when I see it." This makes my cheeks heat up and I start crying again. James frowns again. "Hey. It's okay." he pulls me into a hug. There's something so strange about it. I feel like it should be weird or awkward, or make me feel vulnerable--which if you haven't noticed, I don't like--but it doesn't. It just makes me feel... better. We just sat there on the bathroom floor, my head on his soft, cottony t-shirt. I just cried. After a few minutes, he gave me a tank top and jeans he bought when he went to get breakfast. I tried to refuse them, but he insisted that I take them and shower. You know, he makes it so hard not to fall for him. I swear I am trying my best. Right?