the art of loving ; lord tewksbury

twenty-three

trigger warning: mentions of sexual assault.
there will be no graphic depictions, only mentions of it. if you feel overwhelmed, uneasy or uncomfortable in the midst of reading this chapter, please don't hesitate to pause. if you need someone to talk to, my dms are always open!

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You know, the both of you are bloody annoying when you're hungover."

Chapter Twenty-Three

A couple of hours later, when the sun made a reappearance in the sky and bathed the entire village in its warm, soft glow, Daisy's eyes slowly began to flutter open. The morning call of the birds chirping outside her bedroom window was what reeled her back to consciousness after a very satisfying slumber. Through the slightly parted curtains framing her window, thin streaks of light rays streamed into her room, causing her to groan at the sudden brightness. She lifted up her arms to block out the sunbeams, but to no avail as the second she moved her limbs a sharp throb shot through the side of her head like a bullet. The pain coming from within was overbearing, as if someone had reached into her head and was squeezing her brain into mush. Her arms immediately dropped down onto the bed, lifeless.

  She shut her eyes once more, deciding to give it a few minutes before she was ready to try again.

  As Daisy laid on her bed and did everything in her will to force the headache away, recollections from the night before seeped into her mind. Little by little, piece by piece, fragments of memories came together until they joined to form a puzzle showcasing the previous night's events. Though it was still slightly blurry due to her lack of alertness, she managed to grasp onto some parts of what happened.

  Daisy cringed upon realisation at how irresponsible she had been.

  To be fair, it was kind of worth it. Dealing with the repercussion of an antagonising hangover was brutal, but at least she had fun. At least she got to let loose, even if was only for a few hours. After all, it wasn't as if she hadn't gone through pain worse than this.

  The only thing she was worried about was whether she had accidentally blurted out something she wasn't supposed to. Or, well, did anything she wasn't supposed to. She couldn't seem to recall much after her brother had found her utterly drunk and dragged —in this case, carried—her home.

  Her brother.

  Shit.

  Daisy's eyes snapped open but her body was still not ready to move yet. It felt as if someone was pinning her down, sitting on her and keeping her paralysed. Still, it didn't put a halt to her wandering thoughts as she began to think of all sorts of lectures Grant would give her. She would bet on her life that he wouldn't let this slide so easily, which she dreaded because her brother's lectures were always so long-winded. Another groan escaped her lips at the thought of listening to him ramble on and on about her recklessness.

  On the bright side, she wouldn't have to go through it alone. She was sure Grant would go all big brother mode on Tewksbury, too. At least he would have to endure Grant's nagging, and since it would be his first time, he was definitely in for a treat.

  With a small sigh, Daisy cautiously sat upright  as she balanced herself with her palms pressed onto the mattress. She let out a wince at the continuous pounding emitting from her head, raising her fingers towards it as she rubbed the sides of her head in an effort to soothe the pain. She made a silent vow to never, ever induce any alcohol again. For real this time.