[Alyssa]
The next day, I wake up with the biggest smile known to mankind on my face. Memories from the night before run across my mind, causing me to smile even bigger as I wrap the comforter of Chresanto's around me even tighter.
After everything that transpired between the two of us, we somehow made it back to his room, and the last thing I remember is my eyes rolling to the back of my head as my fingers constrict around his curls, both of us reaching our peak at the highest it could have possibly been last night. I reach my arm over, expecting to come into contact with Chresanto's curls, but instead, my hand comes into contact with a pillow.
I let out a sigh of defeat, feeling used. I roll over on my side to face the door and nearly let out a terrified scream once I realize that I'm not alone. Of course, the urge to scream goes away once I recognize who the person is.
"Well, well, well, good afternoon," Dahlia greets from the doorway. "I was starting to wonder when you were gonna wake up. You slept through breakfast."
"Afternoon?" I repeat, watching her nod. I look at the digital clock next to Chresanto's bed and sure enough, it reads three thirty-seven. "Where did Chresanto go?"
"He and the twins had to take care of some business," she answers, her arms crossed over her chest. "Speaking of which, nice job on the scratches."
My face turns red with embarrassment, and I hide it in the cover, causing my question to come out a little muffled. "He told you, didn't he?" I lift my head up once I'm sure the blush has gone away.
"No, but you can see the scratches from the top of his shirt," she explains, walking in and sitting on the edge of the bed and continues, "which leads me to my next question. How long did you guys go at it?"
I shrug, blushing again. "I'm not sure. Four to six hours, I think."
"Four to- Well, damn!" she exclaims. "I bet your legs are sore as shit, huh?" Now that she mentioned it, there is a stinging sensation between my legs, and it isn't the good kind. "Tell me he used protection, right?"
I close my eyes and think back to the moment before everything happened, unable to come up with a response. "I-I'm not sure."
"Well, I have pregnancy tests at the house. I could always shoot over and grab you one," she offers.
"If I am pregnant, which I doubt it, I'm sure it takes at least two or three weeks for the hormones in your body to register that you are," I counter, not knowing if my statement were true or false.
"Okay, well, in two or three weeks, you'll be taking a test," she smiles. "Are you hungry? I'm making shrimp scampi and garlic bread for lunch."
"That sounds delicious. Give me a second to put on some clothes, and I'll be righ-"
"Oh, no you don't. You, miss ma'am, are going to stay your behind right in this bed. I'll bring your lunch to you. Would you like a glass of wine with it or water?" she asks. A glass of wine sounds really good right now, to be honest.
I know I said I wouldn't start drinking alcohol, but it doesn't always have the effect it had on my mother, does it? No, one glass wouldn't hurt anything, but I don't think I could down any alcohol as soon as I wake up.
