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Hungover

by Amy Jane 6 months ago in fiction

From Hell

Hungover
Photo by manu schwendener on Unsplash

The soft insistent tap on the door was like a meat cleaver to his skull

Complete confusion, combined with an overwhelming desire to be unconscious, and that fucking smell. What the fuck is that?

“Oh …. Me …..”

Every sysable that mumbled through his lips hurt, even his ears burned with the sound

The smell of his breath turned his stomach

He looked around, running his tongue over his lips

Dry and fucking gross

“Water” he managed to croak

Tap, tap, tap - still soft but was not going to stop

Was this even his apartment? Where the fuck am I?

Phew! He exhaled a particularly foul smell burst of air from his lungs

My place and I’m not naked

He glances back down at the mess of sheets, pillows, blanket, legs with a very sexy tattoo…

Gentle tapping had now escalated to a far more insistent almost knocking

Deep breath and “coming”

Holy shit that hurt, squinting stumbling and still with no idea what the hell happened

And who That was - hot but no clue

He looks across his tiny apartment, he has to cross the lounge room floor to get to the door

It seemed as far away as the far side of the moon right now

Who ever was at it would not stop making that noise

Rapping at my fucking door!!

“Commmingg” rasping the sound as loud as he could

I need water before the door

The one large window in the whole place and no one closed the blind clearly

Light poured in, burning the shaped and outline of the window behind his eyelids

Sunlight highlighted every empty container, dirty dish and unidentifiable thing on the carpet

Beautifully lit up in the morning sunshine, how he felt inside reflected in visual clarity

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Wishing he could peel the skin off his face, even that felt cracked and broken

2 empty tequila bottles keeping each other company on the bench

An answer at least

That explains the head, the smell, the mess and the legs with a sexy little tattoo

Smirking to himself, he grabbed the cleanest looking glass

The tap screamed it’s unhappiness at being disturbed

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“I am fucking coming. Wait!!”

He gulped the entire glass of water down, barely wetting anything he goes desperately for another

Grumbling to himself, thinking once he sorted this prick out he could go back to bed

Work out what name belongs to those legs

He flung the door open - “Who the fu…….”

No one was at his door, he looked down the hallway either way and saw no one

Looking down at his feet is brown plain looking box with a courier label stuck to it

“What’s in the box?”

fiction

Amy Jane

I have always wanted to be a writer

If you read my stuff and you feel less alone even for a moment? Awesome

Read next: Osaka School Massacre

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