Luna Cherry

3. a drunken hangover?

My head pounds me awake, the sunlight adding to my gruesome pain while I slither through the sheets to find personal peace. I let my head melt into the soft satin, the pillow surrounding my head in the most comforting way I have ever experienced. My fingers curl under the pillow, a nice warmth building from the friction to reheat the cold digits, and I follow with my toes letting myself become a cocoon of warmth and happiness.

"Sleep well, love?" A drastically different voice than my husband calls over the bedroom, and I snap my head up, eyes still closed to block the blinding light. My throat gags at the movement, stomach upset that I shifted to quickly and I have to force myself to lay back down onto the bed for anything to settle into something bearable, "Here, I brought you water and some pain meds."

I take a moment to flutter my eyes allowing the light around me to level down to tolerable before shifting my gaze to the beautiful man that stands before me, "Oh, um, hello. I don't believe I am where I am supposed to be."

My feet hit the wood floor before the sentence is out, the water set back down on the side table. I try to stand but the man grabs my shoulders keeping me down on the bed, "You had a lot to drink in a bar that wasn't meant for your type. You need rest."

"Who are you?" I look around the room for any sign of where I weaseled myself into, but nothing but a small family photo sits in one corner of the room. The king size bed takes up most of the space, white sheets covering it. Two small doors are off to one side, the light coming from one with the reflectance of a mirror, a bathroom, maybe?

"How much do you remember from last night?"

The handsome, blue-eyed devil crossing his arms, my eyes catching the familiar tattoos. I've seen those before, "I went to the bar with my friend Mary, we both got drunk, and... well it's blank after that."

"You forgot most of the night. Typical." He rubs his hands down his face taking a deep breath before looking me over, "For starters I had to change you because you puked all down your front during a solo of 'the climb'."

I look down to see a set of cotton pajamas covering me, the only familiar garments the underwear I had chosen to wear yesterday morning, "And Mary? Is she okay?"

"Definitely, she's working the yard right now as punishment for letting you get as drunk as she did. She should know better than that." He rolls his eyes walking into the closet and coming back out with a simple purple sundress that would be maybe ankle length on me, "This should be size smedium as you described it."

"Working the yard? What-what does that mean?" I take the dress from him looking over the stitch work. While simple, the attention to detail in the piece is gorgeous and I have to take a moment to admire.

"Saturdays and Sundays are pack day off unless for training, working the yard means gardening an acre of land all by yourself. Of course, if you have other offenders you have help, but she personally brought you."

"Mary, my red headed friend, is gardening an acre of land because she brought me, a grown adult who can make her own decisions, to a bar?" I let my eyes look left and right trying to find the bullshit, "Because I think I'm not understanding."

"You don't understand yet, which is good. She brought you somewhere you didn't have all the info, and for that there are consequences. However, it brought me to you, so she gets the whole weekend to do it instead of just one day." He tugs my hand pulling me from the bed, my state of shock keeps me following his directions, and I feel it slowly start to wear off.

"I should be at my home right now, what I am doing in your bed?" I lay my hand over the dip in the pajama shirt. While he's seen me already I still feel the need to cover myself for my own sanity.

"I brought you here."

I bite my lip trying to understand, the man's eyes flick down to watch me pop the lip back out, "Great, that offers little to no explanation."

"You are much different sober."

I roll my eyes then let myself into the bathroom. He lets me close the door and lock it. The dress is beautiful, and I take a moment more to study it before changing in it. The purple hue brings out the green in my eyes, and the placement of stitches holds to my waist well giving myself more shape than I normally have. The ponytail that was in my hair is holding onto its last legs at the tips. I tug it out using it hold my hair in a tight French braid.

The man is still standing outside of the bathroom when I leave, a small smile on his face when he gets view of me in the chosen dress, "You look beautiful."

"No, I look married and ready to go home."

He stops, a deep face of anger coming over him, I retract a step back. A light knock on the door distracts from the heat coming off of him in waves, Mary entering slowly to see the seething dweller in front of me, "Hey Levi... I meant to tell you..."

"She's fucking married?"

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