The Morning After

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      My eyes were open for approximately three seconds before my stomach rolled. I launched myself out of bed, just barely making it to the toilet of the ensuite bathroom. As if saying ensuite made the fact that we had an adjoining bathroom sound fancy.

      I heaved until I had successfully emptied the little remaining contents of my stomach before peeling myself off of the floor. I had definitely drunk too much, but unfortunately not enough to forget what happened last night. I hung my head in my hands. I danced with Chase Andrews. In front of my ex. Repulsively. I acted exactly the way Will had accused me of acting the night we broke up. In public. I let Chase take me home. Where I kissed him. And insulted him. Several times.

     Fuuuuuuck," The word came out hoarse.

     The night before

     "Do you always go back to the girl's house?"

     "When she asks me to," he said, sending me a cocky look from the front seat.

     "I didn't ask you to,"

    "No, but I wasn't about to let you take a cab home by yourself in the state you're in. Don't worry, I don't plan on 'defiling' you,"

     I snorted. "Nothing to defile here,"

      He barked out a laugh.

     The ride home was quick considering we had to stop twice so I didn't throw up in the car. In no time Chase and I were standing in the doorway of my bedroom. He'd tossed my heels on the mat and grabbed me a glass of water, making an obvious effort not to look at me while I stripped my dress off, walking off to my bedroom in my matching black bra and panty set. I brushed my teeth quickly and slid on an oversized T-shirt and athletic shorts, turning around to see Chase staring at the ceiling in my door way.

     I laughed "Since when are you a gentleman?"

     "Since you got too drunk to care," he said, setting the glass on my desk beside him.

     "Right, I'm sure you've never hooked up with a drunk girl,"

     "Not this drunk, and not while I'm sober,". He replied.

     "Oh sure," the words were condescending. "Like you have standards. You don't even have feelings. You made your way through half the women on this campus. AND your campus. Maybe I should call you fido,"

     "Right," He put his hands on my shoulders, walking me backwards to my bed. "Bed time,"

     I reached up, caressing the side of his clenched jaw "What? Did I hurt your feelings?" I laughed

     "No. Bed."

     "I did,"

    "No, I don't have any,"

      We hit the edge of my bed and he let go, but I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down with me.

     "Willow, what- "

     I pulled harder, bringing his lips to mine, ignoring the roaring in my ears and my blurred vision. It's not blurry if your eyes are closed, is it?

     With a sound of protest, he pulled back, going up on his knees and pulling my shirt out of his grip. "Willow I can't," He sighed.

     My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Isn't that why you danced with me? Why you bought me drinks? Took me home?"

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