Chapter Eleven

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The next morning we woke at 0600, Roosters alarm beeping loudly. When I opened my eyes, I groaned, feeling the lack of sleep and the amount of alcohol consumed the night before. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up, my head spinning briefly.

"Do you feel as bad as I do?" Rooster groaned, sitting up as well, running his hand through his hair. All I could do was grunt in reply. He chuckled softly, though the sound made my ears ring.

"Shhh." I hissed out, holding my hand up towards him. "Too loud." I whispered, only to receive another laugh from him.

"We need to get up." He said, pulling the blanket off of him and getting off the bed.

"Suddenly a morning person now that I can barely function." I grumbled, pulling my feet off the bed, bracing them on the ground.

"I feel bad, don't get me wrong, but I don't think I drank as much as you." He said, grabbing his tan uniform we were required to wear.

"Makes sense." I mumbled, finally standing up. My stomach curled, unhappy with the alcohol still settling in it. "Where are my clothes." I added, looking slowly around, trying not to make myself sick. Rooster handed me a black tee shirt of his.

"Probably be more comfortable then your shirt from last night." He explained, before also handing me my jeans.

"Thanks." I muttered, before getting dressed.

"I put your shirt with you jacket and purse." He added, stepping into his bathroom. I heard him brushing his teeth.

"How long does it take to get to the carrier?" I asked.

"Not long. Twenty maybe." He answered in a muffled voice from the toothpaste.

"Okay." My reply was simple as I slowly walked over to my things on the chair. I put my shirt in the purse and draped my jacket over my arm, slipping my shoes on. Roosters shirt was long on my body, falling passed my butt and stopping about mid thigh. It was an obvious sign he was taller then me. He walked out of the bathroom with a small black bag I assumed were his toiletries. He put them in a duffle bag that was sitting by the closet.

"Ready?" He asked. I groaned my response, wishing I was still in bed. He chuckled again, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder, and walking up to me. He took my chin in his hand and gave me a quick peck on my lips. He then dropped his hand and handed me his black aviators. "I think you'll need these more then I will for the time being." He said softly. I forced a smile in thanks, taking them and putting them on.

We left his room and walked to his Bronco. We then got in and drove to my sleeping compound. Rooster parked the truck and walked with me inside. In my own room, I grabbed my own form fitting tan uniform, getting dressed with slow momentum, still not fully awake or recovered. Looking down at the buttons on the shirt, I felt dizzy and closed my eyes, brining my head up so I wasn't looking down. I took a deep shaky breath, trying not to throw up. I heard rooster chuckle again.

"Here." He said, stepping over to me and buttoning up my shirt. "Weird, never thought I'd be putting clothes on you." He teased, as I opened my eyes, watching him help me. He seemed so unfazed. When he finished doing the buttons, he adjusted the collar, fixing it to adhere to code.

"Thanks." I mumbled, stepping away from him and into the bathroom. There I brushed my teeth, riding my mouth of the foul taste it was experiencing, then put my hair into a bun.

"Is this the bag you're bringing?" Rooster called from the main room. I looked over at him, seeing him pick up my duffle bag I'd prepared the night before.

"It is." I said with a small nod, which I regretted immediately. I focused back in the bathroom, collecting my toiletries before putting the smaller bag into the duffle bag Rooster was holding. "I can take that." I said, holding my hands out towards the bag. Rooster shook his head.

Compromise-Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw-Where stories live. Discover now