𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣: 𝔻𝕖𝕛𝕒 𝕍𝕦

Valentina awoke with the worst headache she'd ever experienced in her life. It felt like her brain was throwing itself against the walls of her skull, trying to break out. Her temples were pounding like the steady beat of a war drum.

It wasn't just her head that hurt, either. Her whole body ached, from her head down to her toes. She supposed she should be grateful that she wasn't puking her guts out right about now, but she didn't count herself as lucky per se. She was simultaneously sweaty and cold, hadn't a clue how Gomez and Morticia could stand having her held so close.

Despite her looking and smelling like wet garbage, they were still all but wrapped around her. She woke up basically on top of Morticia, her head on her chest and her pelvis in the cradle of her hips. Gomez, not to be excluded, was laying on his side, with his arm casually thrown over both girls.

"Dinner?" He suggested at one point as he traced meaningless shapes and figures between her shoulder blades.

Likewise, Tish was repeatedly, almost obsessively, combing her fingers through Valentina's hair, starting at the scalp and not stopping until she reached the ends. Normally she'd be concerned with it getting oily, but it was already damp and limp. She needed to shower.

Sometimes it was like they thought she'd disappear if they didn't keep a hand on her at all times.

She'd been dozing on and off up until now, but the suggestion of dinner made her suddenly, cripplingly aware of the passage of time and she snapped into full consciousness.

"Dinner?! What time is it?!" The room was pitch black, but she thought she'd just awoken some time in the night. It turned out she did, only it was the next night.

"It's almost six o'clock," Morticia said.

So Valentina had lost almost a full twenty-four hours. Dinner ended at about ten PM, and the last thing she remembered was dancing with Morticia. Next thing she knew, she woke up in their shared hotel room.

God, she was never drinking again.

"And you stayed with me the whole time?!" She asked as she sat up. It was a difficult procedure. One wrong move and she'd faceplant into Tish's boobs. She managed to get up. It wasn't graceful, but she managed.

The only response she got was a shrug and, "Where else would we go?"

"Tish, you have guests to entertain!" Her friend group wasn't a bunch of free-thinkers. They needed her to tell them what to do.

Not only that, either. They were never going to believe that the throuple did nothing but sleep for over twelve hours in their little honeymoon suite. They were going to assume... Assume incorrectly, but assume none the less.

"You're more important," she argued. Except Valentina knew her worth, and it was pretty low.

"We've got to go! I need to shower! Is there a theme to tonight's dinner? Dear God, what am I going to wear?" Gomez had a little snicker at that last part. She would too if she were in his position: all suave and dashing with barely any effort. But she wasn't, so all she could do was send a dirty look his way.

"Go shower," Morticia said. "We'll lay an outfit out for you."

That gave Valentina pause. She didn't trust her own mother to pick out her clothes, let alone her gothic boyfriend and girlfriend. But she had no time. If she didn't shower and dress soon, she'd be holding up dinner for everybody. Fingers crossed they weren't already starving.

"Just this once," she answered, pointing at them both with the most serious expression she could muster up. Then, at his wanton grin, "And if you choose a see-through nighty, I'm still not wearing it."

That had been an unfortunate discovery while rummaging through the varietal bags of clothes the two had packed for her. There had been more than one, too.

So she showered, scrubbed herself down until her skin was pink and new. Then she did her hair: wash, condition, blow-dry. Blow-drying on the cool setting always took longer than she liked, but at least it didn't cause her hair to poof up like a poodle's.

If it were just her, Gomez, and Morticia at dinner, she would have skipped blow-drying her hair. But she desperately wanted the approval of Tish's friends.

Sometimes it felt like they were dangling it over her head like a carrot, pulling it away whenever it was just within reach. But it made sense that they'd be as sadistic as their queen bee. High school politics were rough.

There was no time to unpack all of that, though. She couldn't attend dinner in nothing but undies and a robe. She didn't have the confidence to pull off that look.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, there was a white fur-lined dress draped over the foot of the bed. It looked incredibly vintage, like something out of a 1950's Christmas movie, but it was also undeniably cute.

"Is this teddy bear fur?"

"No teddy bears were harmed in the making of this garment," Gomez said, loudly and proudly, like he thought she'd be quite pleased at this fact. "Only a few dozen minks!"

God, that was going to weigh heavily on her conscience. It was soft, though... And she really didn't want to go digging through the rest of her clothes right now.

So she put it on. In a bathroom where her beaus couldn't see her, of course.

"Ready?" She asked when she emerged for the final time. She shouldn't have needed to ask. Morticia's makeup was flawless and Gomez's hair was slicked back like an extraordinary gentleman.

"Ready," Tish answered regally. "Let's be off."