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Edited by Goddamnit_Kyle.

Feel free to point out any mistakes.

•~•

I woke up feeling like hell.

My head was painfully pounding, like elephants were hopping around while banging drums and playing the trumpet.

I had no recollection of what happened last night. I can only remember someone trying to kiss me, and then I kicked their balls. Everything after that isn't even a blur, it's completely empty. It honestly feels like nothing happened after the incident.

I have never felt this sensation. This is really strange for me. I'm talking about the pounding headache, the Alzheimer's, and the feeling like someone breathing down my spine. I don't think you're supposed to feel someone's breath during a hangover.

Can it even be considered a hangover when I didn't drink even a drop of alcohol?

I attempted to sit up from my very comfortable bed, but something heavy was draped around my waist, stopping me from doing so. I tried to push it away, but it's hold on me tightened.

My eyes widened in realization as panic began to set in. I tried pushing the arm away and wiggling out, but his grip was tight around my waist. I looked at myself, relieved to see a t-shirt draped over my frame. But it wasn't mine. I glanced around the room, and it looked quite familiar.

My cheeks instantly flushed when it dawned on me.

Stupid Cheeks!

"Dante?!" I shrieked, turning around. There he lays, close beside me in nothing but his boxers, innocently sleeping.

Innocent my ass.

"Dante, get up." I grumbled, attempting yet again to push his arm off.

"Go back to sleep, nerd." He mumbled. I cannot believe this guy. He was sleeping so peacefully, but I was in full on panic mode.

Doesn't he have any shame?!

"Dante, wake up!" I shouted in his ear. One of his eyes popped open, squinting at me.

"What?"

"Why am I in your room wearing your t-shirt? And why can't I remember anything from last night?" I nervously rambled, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt.

"You ask too many questions."

My mouth hung open is shock. This dude is insane! I don't understand why he feel like there's no need to fill me in on last night's events. It seems like sleeping is more important than keeping me sane.

The fact that his arm is still wrapped around my waist, our faces just inches apart did not help. This is the closest I have ever been to any guy, and no I'm not joking.

Well, you guys could tell, but still.

I tried to keep my nerves from showing on my face, but the sheen of sweat on my forehead gave me away. Noah would literally kill me if he found out I slept in a random boy's bedroom.

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