Bed Space

Chapter 4 - Room Space

A blonde rolled off the couch with a gruff sigh, a hand snaking from the front to the back of her longer hair in an attempt to wake herself. Once her feet had hit the cold floor, she jumped slightly and groaned, the pounding headache that throbbed between her ears began to ring louder at the sudden movement. The night before was spent playing Cards Against Humanity and vodka shot wars between the three other people living in the apartment. Across her, on the other side of the coffee table, was a physically identified man, shorter than her by a few inches, sprawled out in boxers and a crop top brightly colored yellow labels "QUEENS SLAY" in black lettering. Following this, on each side of the coffee table where a body each. On the left was a girl with a moderate amount of body mods in a purple tank top and black shorts, drool pooling on the decorative pillow she had pinned between her arm and face. The left side body was a man that she wasn't all too familiar with, who had messy, long black hair swallowing his features. A little 5 o'clock shadow present on his jaw as his breathing was shallow but sloppy from the inebriation.

The hand in use dropped to the couch cushion below, palms down, pressing in the same direction to lift her body weight up and over the line of vertigo she was about to bare. The movement, even slow, didn't help the onset of nausea that quickly set in, chaining her to the seat she'd previously been on. All that ran through her brain at this point was the mass amounts of throbbing in her head (and how stupid of an idea it was to stand up so soon). The muscles in her jaw tensed as she stood, blocking anything from truly coming up and preventing even the idea of a dry heave. Slowly, the blonde trudged to the kitchen counter that wasn't too far, just between the sink divider that overlooked the kitchen.

Picking up the Costco sized bottle of Ibuprofen, fussing with the bottle cap, and finally managing to get it open with angry profanity.

"This motherfuckin' cap should be easy! I'm 24 years old and should be able to open a child proof FUCKING lid," anger echoed in the kitchen that wasn't muffled from the sleeping living room. Thus, the crop-top wearer woke from the slumber they were in.
"Look, Alex, if you're gonna yell, do it in your own room," they said, holding the side of their head with one hand while propping up their upper body with the other. "We all feel like shit and I don't need the other babies to wake up." They signaled to the two other sleeping bodies on the floor.

She sighed, nodding her head and waving her hand at them with nonchalance, "yea, yea, whatever. Here." Alex tossed the bottle to the awake roommate who caught it with the hand that'd been previously holding his temple.

"Thanks," he mumbled, opening the bottle themself with ease and taking out four. Screwing the lid back on, they set it back on the marble coffee table and settled back onto the floor.

She mumbled, "yea... no problem," and disappeared into the shared bathroom. It wasn't small but it wasn't large either. It could barely hold a lot of the products that everyone in the household used. Immediately when she walked in, the light of it blinded her and the products shifted as a hand caught itself on the counter once her knees began to shake. With a stomach rumble, air allowed itself up through her throat and out of her mouth followed by the foul taste of last night's vodka and morning breath. Holding her stomach, she groaned making it to the shower tub and dragged the red and white curtain aside. Using the handle, she let the water begin to flow from the silver bath faucet, the noise flooding the room. Flicking the little switch, Alex pulled back and began to strip herself of the nightwear she had from the night before that wreaked of alcohol and... popcorn butter?

"What the fuck happened?" she chuckled, now fully unclothed while stepping into the lukewarm water. Every inch of her skin began to tingle with the sensation as the heat grew until it was at the perfect temperature. This was an art she had mastered from all her days of con travel. She half sighed half chuckled as the nausea washed away from deep within her skin, "thank the lords above for this water."