Hearts Aflame

001: Hangovers

Urghhh. Hangovers.

Mina thought groggily, stretching her very numb arms over her head and groaning when her head released a very powerful lurch of pain, reminding her of the dozens glasses of alcohol she so carelessly drank yesterday night, and for what? Hangovers.

For someone who is so used to parties and wildlife – because having male best friends does that to you – she should have been used to what comes with it: headaches and plenty of nights of drunk-sleeping that makes everyone only dream of a nice sleep.

She stretched her sore legs and wiggled around to find a more comforting position to sleep in whatever tight place she had passed out on, only to plummet down and meet the concrete.

... or whatever harsh ground she fell onto that could groan and move under her.

"Get off," A guttural, deep groan came from under her, and in her hazy-minded drunken-self, she didn't understand that she had fallen over a person and that person wanted her to get off. All she knew was that she had a harsh, harsh pain pounding in her head. She dared to groan again, nuzzling her face into the guy's chest, with her icky hair all in her mouth and wrapped around her eyes by God knows what sorcery that made it like that. The guy she fell onto let out an almost painful wail.

"Mina, get the fuck off." A hand reached for the back of her neck, twisting her flesh with two fingers, and pulling her away from him harshly. Mina's head pounded again, and the way the guy was manhandling her only doubled the pain of her head. She yelped and tried to reach for the hand behind her, which she successfully caught in spite of the whole world spinning around her.

She yanked his hand away from her flesh, which he was still tightly pinching, something she didn't realize in the drunken haze wrapped around her mind, and made herself even more hurt, as the guy didn't hesitate to pull her skin right along with her yank.

What an utter ass.

"Urgh, let go of me you mouse-eating shit!" Mina screamed, now slapping the hand mercilessly, a scowl making itself evident in her head. The guy dared to chuckle at her,  amusingly too; letting go of her skin and then using his knee to dig into her thigh, so that he could twist her away from him.

She fell right on her back with an oofff.

She instantly tried to pull the stray locks of her long hair out of her eyes, so that she could see and kill the asshole for hurting her and pushing her away from his all too soothing body heat. Her hair was too long for her liking, and too icky with sweat and.. what was it? Juice? The locks kept sticking to each other in a gross way and obscuring her vision – not like she could see anyway with the wild swinging of everything around her — she remembered then that the ass who had been under her was exactly the same one that made her hair like this, for he, the asshole, had poured cocktail mix in it when he had been intoxicated with her yesterday night.

Once she successfully yanked her hair off of her face, she turned her head sideways to glare at him, finding him scratching his chest (the same area she had nuzzled) and looking thoroughly uncomfortable with whatever he was feeling, which she knew was hangover. The two of them drank to their hearts' content together, anyway.

The pure irritation in his face didn't soften her heart, or her resolve, and she easily reached her hand to his face and smacked his eyes.

"Ow! Woman, keep your hands to your body, thank you very much." He grumbled, pushing away her hand from his face which wasn't even there to begin with, which made him look like a fool clawing air.

"That is payback for smearing punch to my hair, you dick, do you know how hard it was to get it done for the party?" She grumbled back with a deep scowl on her face, wiggling around the tight place she was wedged in, between the guy's rock hard body, and the couch she had fallen from. Nice.