chapter | 33

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──────L U D I C R O U S[ chapter 33 • hangovers & tattoos ]──────

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L U D I C R O U S
[ chapter 33 • hangovers & tattoos ]
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"YOUR MOCKING OF my hangover is really messed up, mom. I'm literally dying and my suffering is amusing to you," I mutter, pushing my hair back and yanking my hoodie over my head.

This morning I had awoken with the worst fucking hangover I've ever experienced in all my 18 years on this damn planet.

The aching in my skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide, yet the pain is always there. It feels as if the blackest of clouds are over my head with no intention of clearing up. No better yet, it feels like a balloon is over my cranium, slowly being inflated, pressure mounting.

"You're my baby, I can't help myself," she retorts, meeting my gaze. "So how was your night?" She questions, placing two tablets of Advil and a glass of water in front of me.

I thank you her before quickly taking the painkillers. "I guess it was fun." I shrug, putting the cup back down. "I don't even know what happened, everything's a blur."

A soft laugh leaves my mother's mouth, eyes crinkling at the sides.

"And I'm still trying to figure out why my hair smelt like I was dunked in a fucking fishbowl," I grumble under my breath.

"A fishbowl?" My mother repeats in disbelief before laughing again. "You had a weird-ass night." I nod my head in agreement at her words because waking up to having your hair smelling like you were dunked into a fish's bathroom isn't a normal fucking thing.

I bring my right knee to my chest and rest my head atop my kneecap just as Hunter walks into the kitchen. My nose crinkles at the sweat that soaked his white-tee, he had just come back from his morning run. He says his 'hi' to our mother, kissing her on her forehead before turning to me, "Morning, how's the hangover?" He questions, opening the fridge.

"Fuck off," I grumble, watching as he leaned against the counter.

"The amount of appreciation for taking care of your puke-ass-self is the perfect amount," he remarks, drinking his cold water. "Actually, I think I deserve a hug since you're being unappreciative of my duties as a brother."

"Hunter, no." I stand up from the barstool, the room swayed almost causing me to lose my balance and reach out for the island. The room swirled before becoming stationary again. I blink several times as black dots blurred my vision — all thanks to my iron-deficiency (and possibly the hangover).

In that time, Hunter wraps his arms around my body, pulling me into a hug and suffocating me with the smell of sweat. An aggravated groan leaves my parted lips as I try pushing him away. "Mom, mommy, ma! Get your disgusting son," I grunt out as my face was squished against his chest. However she just ignores us and heads out the kitchen, apparently, she didn't want to deal with our stupid shit. Pressing my palms against his chest, I end up pushing him back.

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