how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

forty-eight: hangover

HANGOVER

A wave of nausea washed over Lucia as she was lifted from a deep sleep. Her eyes flickered open, instantly met with an emerald glow surrounding the small space. She wondered whether her skin was the same colour as the light due to the acid swirling in her stomach from her hangover. The remanence of the copious amounts of alcohol she'd drank the previous nights had left her feeling a strange remaining buzz. The light was almost too much for the pounding in her head, so she screwed her eyes shut again.

Her hair was an absolute mess, and she could feel mascara crumbled under her eyes. Lucia suspected she looked as badly as she felt.

A soft warm breath was tickling the back of her neck in a steady rhythm, and a pair of warm arms wrapped around her, bringing her flush against his body.

Lucia could feel how much the mere t-shirt she had slept in had ridden up, meaning the skin-to-skin contact on her back was spreading heat through her body.

Lucia shifted her legs that were intertwined with another pair, causing a light groan to grace her ear and a head of curls to nuzzle into her neck.

It took her a second to recall she wasn't waking up in a bed with a random drunk hookup from the night before, but with her lovely boyfriend who had respected her enough not to sleep with her in her vulnerable state. This caused her body to completely relax into Tom's touch, savouring the warmth radiating from him as his atoms melted into hers.

The hands around her began tracing circles on her exposed stomach comfortingly, warm lips pressing into the delicate skin of the crook of her neck.

The nausea swirling in her stomach intensified, creeping up her neck torturously.

"Fuck." She cursed under her breath, tearing the covers off her, detaching Tom's arms and leaping out of the four-poster through a gap in the curtains with her hand clamped over her mouth.

She was met with the sight of four Slytherin boys sitting up in their beds looking to have just stopped a conversation, and were now gaping at her in surprise.

Lucia paused, frantically pulling the hem of Tom's t-shirt down in attempt to cover herself more, as it had been caught on her hipbone in the escape attempt.

"Uhm, sorry." Lucia muttered before rushing to the door to the bathroom of the dorm.

"Get it, Rosier!" Lucia could hear one of them applauding from behind her, along with some claps and cheers of approval to him. Tom was brushing them off, his footsteps heading towards where she had disappeared to.

Lucia fell in front of the toilet just in time before she began throwing up violently.

It was only a couple of seconds before she heard the bathroom door shut and felt a large hand thread into her hair to hold it into a makeshift ponytail out of her face, the other resting on her back and rubbing calming circles.

After the first wave of throwing up concluded, Lucia leant her elbows on the seat and she began to chuckle dryly. "Fuck, Tom. I'm so sorry about this." Her tone was laced with humour.

"Nothing I haven't seen before." Tom remarked lightly, not seeming the slightest bit bothered, "Takes me back to the first time we met actually, except I definitely was not holding your hair back then."

Another wave of nausea crept up on Lucia and she went into another episode momentarily.

"Fucking hell." She spluttered, wiping her mouth with toilet paper, "I kind of deserve this though, I knew I was taking it a bit far."