Redemption (Midas x Reader)

• XXVIII •

🚨 Smut Warning

(Thank you AriesGolden, for the continuous inspiration through conversation ❤)

The room was spinning.

I swung both feet off the edge of the bed and planted them on the floor, the cool cement helping to anchor me, at least to an extent. If nothing else, the cold slab pressed against my soles aided in conducting the heat away from my naked body, the air in the room too suffocating to evaporate the sweat which now soaked the sheets I'd recently been lying on.

I sat with my elbows on my knees, forehead propped against my palms, actively resisting the urge to vomit. The flat gray expanse below me seemed to ripple, as though I were wading my feet in a body of water, and I clenched my eyes closed in a futile attempt to make the ground solid once again.

It didn't help, and I suppressed a gag as the dizziness continued behind my closed lids, suddenly doubting whether my willpower would be enough to overcome my body's urges. After everything else I'd done tonight it seemed absurdly unfair to leave Tek with such a revolting mess to clean up, and I decided to attempt to make it to the bathroom if the contents of my stomach were going to insist on making a reappearance.

In my stupor it didn't occur to me how hard it would be to balance on two feet if I couldn't even sit up straight, and the second I stood I keeled over sideways, slamming my shoulder into the bedside table with enough force to send everything upon it flying to the floor.

The sound of the vodka bottle shattering was what sobered me enough to regain my composure. Thankfully by now it was mostly empty, although the shards of glass littered across my walking path would make navigating out of here even more challenging in my drunkenness.

The entire point had been not to make a mess, and instead Tek's book lie closed on the floor, place lost, soaking up the last dregs of vodka as they spread outwards from the point of impact. The pages were beginning to curl as they absorbed the spilled liquid, an ostensibly fitting metaphor, as my delicate innards were likewise infused with alcohol, my own narrative having gone decidedly astray.

I was quickly reminded that even if I'd lost my way I at least needed to find a toilet, the vapors from the overturned spirit finally reaching my nostrils, the burn closing off my airways and causing my stomach to lurch once again.

Despite how hot I was I couldn't very well wander out of the room nude, regardless of the fact that the building should be nearly vacant apart from the prisoners, everyone most likely having gone on the same rescue mission as Tek. Thankfully my clothes were far enough away that they'd been spared from the seeping liquor, and I carefully shuffled my feet to try to reach them without stepping on any broken glass.

I was still unsteady, nearly falling again from the vertigo as I haltingly bent over to retrieve them from the floor. In my hurry I decided to forgo the bra and panties, quickly slipping into my shirt before sitting back down on the bed so I could pull on my shorts without the risk of taking another nosedive. As I did so I noticed my gun holster lying on the ground, and as an afterthought I pulled the pistol from within and tucked it into the back waistband of my shorts.

Skye had said there were a lot of dangerous people being held here, and I figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

I made my way to the door and wrenched it open, the blast of fresh air from the hall easing my nausea just a bit as it wafted across my damp skin. I stepped through, and if I hadn't known any better I would've thought I'd traveled through some sort of rift in time and space, the threshold of the door serving as a gateway between the two different worlds I'd created for myself.