𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃, chris sturniolo

029.

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₊❏❜ ⋮ ᶠᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᵍᵒˡᵈ ⌒
𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒-𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾
ʳᵉᵃˡ ˡⁱᶠᵉ

❝ 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀
𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍? ❞

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AS BIANCA SLOWLY wakes up from a night that she can barely recall, her head feels like it's being squeezed in a vice, throbbing with every heartbeat. The room spins and swirls around her, making her feel disoriented and nauseous. Even the faintest sounds seem amplified, provoking her ears to ache. She longs for a glass of cool water to soothe her parched throat and the warmth from her cozy blanket that seems to be too thin to swathe her in the heat she is searching for, seeking solace from the harsh brightness of the morning light. The aftermath of the party has left Bianca feeling like she's been caught in a storm of discomfort and exhaustion.

Gradually, she opens her tired eyes-cursing at herself for forgetting to take off her contact lenses. Though, she is sure she was far too wasted to even do a simple task. Lifting her blanket, she glances at the set of clothes she is in that she does not remember changing into. Closing her eyes, she tries to make her mind travel back to when she arrived home, wanting to know how she got into a better sleep apparel.

With half-closed eyes, Bianca's gaze wanders around her surroundings. She is home-her vision is hazy, thus, she is unsure of where she exactly is in her home. Her arm is around someone's neck who she is more than certain is Chris. His arm is supporting the back of her neck whilst the other is around the back of her thighs.

To the best of his abilities, he knocks on one of the bedroom doors. She hears it open, faintly smelling a vanilla-scented candle. This must be Natasha's room. There is no one else in this home that likes the smell of vanilla aside from her.

"Hey... Chris?" Natasha's greeting sounds more like a question, most likely confused about what he is doing outside of her door with a drunk girl in his arms. Because Bianca's eyes are not fully open, she cannot see Natasha's facial expression that clearly.

"Hi, ma'am."

"Uh, Bianca's room is just at the end of the hallway."

"Oh, um, I know. I was just... I was just wondering if you could change her clothes into something more comfortable. I don't think she'll enjoy her sleep in a corset."

How sweet of him.

Bianca traps her bottom lip in between her teeth to refrain from letting a faint smile tug at her lips. She does not remember much from the party; everything was hazy after the seventh shot of Fireball entered her system. Her hand subconsciously reaches for her left eye, rubbing the tiredness away but she halts when she feels no mascara on her eyelashes.

When did I remove my mascara?

Her eyes then land on the glass of water on her nightstand, it was not there before. She never brings one to her room because she believes herself to be a clumsy one and will, without a doubt, spill it on herself or on her bed somehow.

She does not question it, guessing it to be Natasha who did it after changing her. Bianca leaves her comfortable bed and enters her bathroom straight across. Her eyes widen at the sight of herself in the mirror. Tousled hair. Lethargic eyes. Slouched shoulders. Tying her hair back, she splashes cold water on her face to get rid of any traces of last night and awaken her more.