Sister Styles

{8} The Letter

"Lilli," someone's voice errupted my pleasant dreams. "Lilli, wake up."

I groaned, lazily opening my eyes. Payton sat on the edge of my bed, shaking my shoulders. He smelled of rich shampoo and my favourite cologne of his. A growing smile appeared on his face. "What?" I grunted, still half asleep.

"It's almost noon," he glanced up at the digital clock on my bedside table. "You missed dance class."

I screwed my eyes shut, still not adapted to the light, and shuffled up to a sitting position. As soon as I sat up, a throbbing pain began pulsing in my brain, causing me to whine. I rubbed my eyes then checked the clock myself. He could be screwing with me. "What? No way." But surely enough, there were the bright red numbers saying 11:49AM.

"Is everything okay? You never miss a dance class." Payton asked, concerned for me.

I blinked, squinting, and looked up at him. I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I slept through my alarm then." I said, a little curious as to why and how I could have slept through it.

"How are you feeling? How's your head?" He asked me, leaning foward, resting the back of his four fingers on my forehead. His hands were hot at the touch.

I sighed. "I'm fine, why? What happened? The last thing I remember was I hung up the phone on someone, I can't remember who."

"Me," Payton immediately answered, a light chuckle added on the end.

"What?"

"You don't remember last night?"

I shook my head. I don't remember. Last night was a complete blur and I was starting to get a little nervous as to what happened. I looked over Payton for any hint of what may have happened, but I was suddenly a little surprised to finally notice that he was shirtless and in sweatpants. His hair was sticking up in all different directions.

Payton sighed. "Well here," he said. "I'll tell you, but how 'bout over some breakfast. You need to get some food in your system. Have a shower, get dressed, and I'll take you out for some breakfast and we'll go to the mall after. Sound good?"

I nodded. "Sure."

Payton leaned in, planting a small and unexpected kiss on my forehead, my face flushing immediately. He emerged from the room, leaving me alone in complete silence.

I climbed out from under my covers, and as soon as I did so, my stomach began churning harshly and I knew what was coming next. I ran towards my bathroom, lunging to sit in front of the toilet. I practically shoved my face inside the bowl as the puke and acidic vomit came from my mouth. I groaned again as I felt a pair of hands pull my hair back from my face while I finished emptying my fluids.

"What the hell did I eat?" I questioned out loud, not even glancing at what came from my stomach. I reached my hand up to flush the toilet before pushing myself up to my feet.

Without even looking up at Payton, my face was red with embarrassment. I mean, Payton's seen me practically sick on my death bed before, but it's still embarrassing. I quickly turned on the faucet, running the cold water over my face and rinsing the rest of it out of my mouth.

"It's not what you ate, it's what you drank." Payton chuckled out a laugh. Glad to know my unexpected hangovers are hilarious. I remember having one glass of wine last night, but I wouldn't get drunk from it. I don't get hammered that fast, usually takes a couple glasses.

As I finished cleaning myself up, I turned around to see him still standing in the doorway of the bathroom, still shirtless, still messy hair, still hot.

Wait what? No.

Payton and I have been friends forever, and I've seen him like this many times before. Not from any sexual relations, but because he does come and crash on my couch every once in a while. What is wrong with my hormones lately?