You had been sleeping peacefully when you were awoken by a loud sound. A crash of thunder shook the house, and lightning followed not long after. You sat up in bed, startled by this. It was silent for a few minutes, except for the pouring rain outside. Another crash of thunder shook the house, and you sighed. You weren't afraid of thunderstorms, but your Danish roommate Maritta definitely was. It wouldn't be long before she came rushing into your room. After a third crash of thunder, you got up, knowing you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.
Stepping out of your room, you headed down to the living room, wanting to go watch some TV. Maybe you could tire yourself by watching three hours of ad commercials, which was all that was on TV at this time. Making your way downstairs, you went to go sit on the couch, but found that someone was already there. Maritta was laying on the couch, fast asleep. You were surprised that she hadn't woken up yet. But then you saw the four beer bottles on the table. Okay, so maybe your roommate had a small drinking problem. You sighed deeply, grabbing the empty bottles, bringing them into the kitchen. Maritta usually only drank on the weekends, but maybe she had had a particularly bad day at work. It was Monday, after all. Judging by how many bottles she had drank, she hadn't drank enough to cause her to pass out, as she had a pretty high alcohol tolerance. She had most likely just fallen asleep on the couch, only the slightest bit drunk.
Moving back out to the living room, you saw that, while you were in the kitchen, she had managed to roll over, which had caused her to fall off the couch. She continued to sleep, though. That is until the house was shook by a especially loud crash of thunder. She sat bolt upright, a look of sheer terror on her face. You never understood why she was so afraid of thunderstorms, but you had also never cared to ask. She sat completely still for a moment before a flash of lightning came. You watched as she curled up in a ball, grabbing one of the couch pillows and covering her head with it.
You were silent for a moment. "Maritta, are you alright?" You asked after a little while. She instantly shook her head. She trusted you, so there was no point in lying about it, when it was painfully obvious that she wasn't okay. You could see her visibly shaking. You sat down on the couch, sighing. Usually Maritta was a very stoic woman. She only had two fears: thunderstorms and big birds.
"Why don't you go sleep upstairs? In you room?" You asked, looking down at her. She shook her head once more. "Why not?"
"Then I'd be closer to the storms!"
You rolled your eyes, but you didn't press the subject. You knew you wouldn't be able to get her to go upstairs. Maritta may have been a very stoic woman, but she was also very stubborn. "I'm going to go make some hot chocolate. Do you want any?" You asked, getting up from your spot on the couch. You saw a tiny nod from the Dane, so you headed to the kitchen.
After a few minutes, you returned with two large cups of hot chocolate. You had put whipped cream and sprinkles on Maritta's, since you knew that was how she liked her hot chocolate. The Danish woman was still on the floor, shaking. Sitting back down on the couch, you nudged her with your foot.
"I got you a cup of hot chocolate, but you have to come sit up here with me if you want it," you said, taking a sip of your own drink. Maritta was very hesitant, but she slowly removed the pillow from over her head. She looked up at you for a minute before she got up and sat down on the couch. You handed her the cup. Another crash of thunder shook the house, causing her to jump in surprise. She somehow managed to spill some of her hot chocolate, but, unfortunately, it spilled right on you. The crotch area of your pajama pants was now wet with burning hot liquid.
You jumped up, dropping your own cup of hot chocolate on the floor. As quickly as you could, you pulled off your pajama pants, your vital regions burning from the hot liquid. This didn't help, though, as it had already soaked through the thin fabric to your underwear, which were also soaked. You yelled a whole bunch of swear as you took off your underwear too, some of them not even in English. Maritta just watched the whole thing happen, the look of terror on her face changing to an amused look.
