She Ain't From Around Here

24 | memory loop

The moment my eyes flared open, I jumped out of my bed and sped to the bathroom, and vomited into the toilet, hurling out whatever I ate last night.

With a groan, I got up from the toilet and rubbed my now heavily throbbing head.

After I brushed my teeth with a hustle, I opened up the bathroom door and walked to the bed.
I groaned in pain when a sharp pain went through my head.

"You're a terrible drunk."

I yelped when I saw Clint leaning against the wall, beside my bed, with a brooding gaze.

Before I could retort and ask as to why he was doing in my room, a sharp pain run through the side of my head causing me to groan in pain.

Clint picked up something from the nightstand beside the bed.
"Here." He said, handing me a glass of water and some pills of Advil.

Without reluctance I took it and gulped it all, feeling at ease as the drugs started doing their work.

"God," I murmur, rubbing my head. I still felt woozy and the disappointed look Clint was throwing at me wasn't helping either.

"What?" I snapped, irked.

"Why did you go to the party last night?" He inquired. His hands crossed across his chest.

I rolled my eyes inwardly. "I went to a party?"

 He said lowly, causing my stomach to knot up. "Don't play dumb, Elaine."

He sauntered towards me. "That was stupid and careless..."

I veered off at his words and rolled my eyes.

He sounded annoyingly like my father which vexed me.
As he criticized my actions last night, I realized his V-neck shirt was tugged up making me notice his bare-toned stomach.

Dark ink, drawn on his fair skin.
I frowned. "You have a tattoo."

"—you need to be more carefu—were you not listening?" He glared at me before he let a frustrated sigh and rubbed his temple. "What did you say again?"

I pointed to his stomach. "You have a tattoo."

I had a tattoo too. It was a random idea my friends and I came up with when we were in a shoot.

Clint furrowed his eyebrows. "Of course I do. You know that."

I did?

Now, it was my turn to frown. "Oh..."
But what I said was not convincing so Clint took an intimidating step forward. "How could you forget?"

He wasn't angry but rather worried.

I shrugged. "I didn't."
That was a lie. I couldn't remember shit.

I told you my memory was crap.

"That's a lie." He stated, calmly with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"No..." I trailed off, before pushing him away from me. "Can you get out of my room?"

"How can you forget something like that, Elaine?" He said, stunned.
I placed my hands on his back and pushed him towards the door.

"Leave." I fumed, pushing his heavy body outside my room before slamming the door at his face.

I rubbed my hand across my face in exasperation.
Clint has a tattoo. Why? When?

And why couldn't I remember?
Of course, I knew the answer to that.

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