BITTER SWEET. | J. JK

ONE.

08:11 am

It all began when she felt the few sunbeams which escaped from the roller blinds hitting her face slowly, she turned to the other side trying to escape the light that quickly hovered her skin. But, then, little by little, it wasn't the clarity that filled her untidy room that bothered her anymore, it was the throbbing, excruciating thumps that drummed all over her head. "Ugh...My head..."

Y/N covered her head with the sheets, wanting so desperately to go back to sleep but, then, and exactly then, she heard the most annoying music in the world.

It was the morning alarm that called for the dreadful moment. She took out her hand from underneath the sheets and tried to pick up her phone. The music, however, only got louder and more and, more irritating.

"Shut up, shut up!" She growled through yawns and whimpers still trying to reach the phone that seemed to be miles away. She finally reached it. "Gotcha ya!" Quickly unlocking the screen, she noticed it was already 8 in the morning.

"Oh shit, oh shit!" She cursed, fumbling to get up. "I'm going to be late! It's the first semester class!" The more she tried to unwrap herself from the sheets the more curled she find herself to be. Fuck. She couldn't move, drowned in the immense of the sheets. The last effort, however, gaining her the first bed fall of the new upcoming semester of hell school.

"Ouch, fuck! My back!" She fell on her back, skin crawling at the cold wooden floor, she could feel herself already sore.

But, hey, at least she was free now. Had Y/N forgot how to walk? She didn't know. But she did struggle into the bathroom, crawling her legs and arms as she went. Her head pounded. She attempted to reach the door handle, costly. "Uh ... I'm going to throw up ..." All that bittersweet alcohol that a couple hours ago had sent her to overdrive were now twisting and turning in the most painful ways inside her stomach. She rushed to the toilet.

No more buzz for you, Miss Y/N. She lectured herself. Head hanging low, drops of sweat falling down her forehead. She was hugging the toilet and, in times like these, it was helpless not to face the reality: She didn't handle alcohol very well. After, she crawled to the bathtub and opened the water tap.

She got herself into the tub and, took the longest and the warmest shower she had for a while now. How blissful it was to feel all the shit she had drunk yesterday, step by step, leaving her body as the water fell on her skin.

She felt better. She wrapped herself in her towel. Brushed her teeth. She dried her hair. And, she got to her room to get dressed.

The hangover still had her on the palm of its hand, so it was clear Y/N wasn't not in the mood to dress nicely. She jumped into a black sweatshirt and leggings, picked up from her pile of clean clothes from last week. She knew she wasn't not the most organized person, okay? She put on her white converse and strolled, hastily, to the kitchen.

After the hallway, the house opened wide. There you would find the kitchen which was connected to the both living and dining room.

Her apartment was the biggest of the deals. Yet, it was still welcoming and modern. The kitchen had light wood furniture with translucent glass details, the countertops were granite.

The only thing that separated the kitchen from the living room was an island style counter that in one side had the sink and cabinets and, in the other, stools where she usually ate her meals.

The living room had a white and blue scheme, in the continuation of the kitchen.

How she loved her faux fur carpets that perfectly match the aesthetics! Then in the back there was a mirror with a sculptured wood frame painted in silver.