1.1 The Chronicles of Us - Vice & Virtue

Chapter thirty-six

My eyes have trouble accepting the existence of light. It causes a pounding sting in my forehead. It reminds me a little of having the flu. I'm not sick, though. No, I'm hungover.

I've never experienced the result of a night of heavy drinking before. Maybe not my proudest achievement, but there has to be a first time for everything. It's not that bad. I just need a shower and a gallon of water.

I sit up straight. Through squinted eyes, I distinguish the shape of a water bottle on the nightstand. Either I had a smart moment before crawling into bed or Tex was very thoughtful.

Definitely Tex.

His side of the bed is empty. He must be up already. The smell of yesterday's sweat and my alcohol-breath penetrates my nostrils. Time to get myself under a stream of hot water and a lot of soap. I collect some clean clothes and disappear into the bathroom. While I brush my teeth and tongue, guitar-sounds come from the living room.

I love it when he plays. He becomes a different person. Someone passionate and driven without anything bothering his mind. Completely focused.

With a steady flock of butterflies in my stomach, I take a quick yet thorough shower. The water feels nice, relieving most of my headache, but I want to be near him. Is it crazy to miss someone while being in the same house?

After drying off, I slip on a fresh set of cute pajamas. Pink shorts with cherries on it and a matching top. When I waltz into the living room, ignoring my throbbing temples, Tex glances my way but keeps playing, seated on the corner-chair.

Nothing in this world is sexier than the scene in front of me. The way his messy morning-hair hangs in front of his concentrated face, the precise motion of his long fingers across the neck of the guitar and, of course, his bare torso. There should be a law that forbids him from ever wearing a shirt again, on penalty of corporal punishment by my design.

Amused by my own thoughts, I step in front of him when he strums a last time. "Hi."

"Hey." He places the black guitar on the stand next to him, looking a bit wary. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually. Just a little headache."

"You don't feel down?" He tilts his head a little as if to observe if I'm being honest.

His flat tone and closed-off demeanor seem odd to me. "No, why would I? I'm here with you, right?"

The ends of his lips go up, almost shyly, but they don't reach his eyes. "Most people get down after a night of X. It uses up all your dopamine."

"Oh." I guess, I didn't consider the possibility of a depressing aftermath. "Well, I feel good."

He nods slowly, as if in thought. "Did you have fun last night?"

I beam a smile. "Yes, definitely. Your friends are really nice. Okay, Vicky not so much but the rest of them made feel very welcome."

Another absent nod. "Okay."

I don't understand why he's so afraid. Sure, I had more than the one drink I promised, but it was all in good fun. Charlotte stuck to my side instead of Vicky's. I even played some drinking games and won! Although, considering the amount of shots I had to take, I may have lost. Either way, I had a fantastic time. From what I remember, at least.

I don't like these distant-vibes, so I sit myself sideways on his lap and run my fingers through the hair above his ear. "How do you feel? Aren't you hungover?"

He leans into my hand, shaking his head a little. "I barely drank anything. Didn't really have the time with the way you were behaving."

Oh no.