Parties and late night drunken states meant everything when it came to Clover Paige; especially if it meant leaving her wild thoughts behind and losing herself in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Her name is just an illusion, you would think anyone named C...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets." — Arthur Miller
HANGOVERS WERE NOT FUN.
That was something Clover had learned throughout the years, and even after countless nights of partying with a bottle of Jack Daniels, she still couldn't quite figure out how to deal with one.
Rolling over in bed, she groaned loudly as she reached over to the night stand. Opening only one eyelid, she looked over at the clock she grabbed and saw that it was three in the afternoon. Clover cursed underneath her breath as she realized she had slept the entire day away.
Maybe you shouldn't have drank so much last night, she criticized herself.
Clover let out a deep sigh and rubbed her hands across her tired face. The sun shined through the transparent curtains and its heat bothered her as it prickled her skin. Looking around the room, she slowly sat up. There was a grave pounding in her head that made her feel like the world around her was going to combust.
She threw the duvet covers off of her burning body and placed the pads of her feet on the ground. The hardwood floor felt cool underneath her touch. Clover slowly stood up from the bed, not wanting to lose her balance. She then walked towards the bathroom connected to her new bedroom.
Switching on the light, Clover immediately regretted it as it seemed brighter here than in her room. She covered her eyes until they adjusted. Upon being able to see clearly, she took this opportunity to look at her appearance in the mirror. She grimaced.
The makeup she wore was pathetically smeared across her face. Mascara had melted below her lash-line and the eyeshadow she worked so hard on was no longer looking perfect. The red lipstick that adorned her lips was halfway missing and spilled past her Cupid's bow.
I really outdid myself this time, she thought to herself. Clover bent over the sick, her stomach suddenly churning. She held her breath and pinched the skin between her eyebrows. The nausea subsided thankfully, however she knew it would come back soon if she didn't get something in her system.
Grabbing her toothbrush, she put a fairly large amount of toothpaste onto the bristles and placed it in her mouth. Clover hated the taste of morning breath and considering she didn't do her hygienic routine before she slept, it was worse today. Once she was done brushing, she spit into the sink and rinsed her brush off.
There was a packet of makeup wipes she brought with her from her apartment sitting on the marbled counter. She plucked one out of the package and began to wipe away all of the mistakes from the previous night away. The alcohol. Kissing random men. Weston.
Memoriesof what occurred between the two came flooding back. Clover stared at herself as she remembered his lips on hers, the way he gripped her thigh, how it was as if his body connected with hers perfectly.
