Wake up and smell the daisies {DAVID}
Apr 1, 2009 14:03:01 GMT -5
Post by Brea Wilson on Apr 1, 2009 14:03:01 GMT -5
Brea woke suddenly as her pillow moved. Her first thought was a simple 'huh'. Pillows didn't usually move. She opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows, noting with mild distress that she had the sort of pounding headache which happens after a night of drinking. She turned to look at the moving pillow, yawning cutely and rubbing her bleary eyes with the back of one hand. No shit... she'd been lying on David. Mildly bemused, Brea checked to make sure that she was clothed and unlikely to have screwed him. Indeed she was, and David too seemed to be fully clothed. Really, she wouldn't have minded if she had fucked him, but the fact that she couldn't remember how she had ended up sharing David's bed was mildly distressing.
She flopped back onto the bed and pouted, thinking hard, and soon memories floated back. Last night she had once again foregone her meds in exchange for drinking. Yes... there had been a lot of drinking. She seemed to remember blurrily getting completely and utterly shit faced. She remembered screwing someone... but who? Hot damn, difficult question. She really couldn't remember.
Oh wait... now she could. It had been some wierdy bloke with a beard. Brea remembered this because he had been an ugly freak who looked a lot like a walrus. She had been trying to push him off her, but he'd been all over-excited. Oh yeah, it was all coming back now. Walrus sex, followed by tears and melodramatic claims of rape. Holy shit, she got unrealistic when drunk - which man who looked like a walrus wouldn't screw any girl so drunk she had forgotten her own name? That hardly constituted rape. And then she had run off in a melodramatic fashion, and ended up at Davids.
Man... how embarrassing. Turning up at David's room all drunk and wailing about a non-existent rape. What a loser... Well, at least she remembered now. But there was still one really important chunck missing from her memory of the night before: how had David reacted? Had he been angry at her for getting so utterly drunk? Had he been angry at her for screwing the walrus-man? Had he just agreed to let her stay over just to shut her up so that he could get some sleep?
Brea wanted to know, so she sat up again and poked David in the shoulder repeatedly. "heeeeyyy... Davy Boy! Rise and shine! Smell the daisies or whatever! I'm taking a shower and then you're giving me a low-down on whatever the fuck I did last night, m'kay?" Without waiting for a reply she sprung up from the bed and went for her shower, singing wildly out of tune as she washed her hair with whatever man-shampoo David had lying around. A short while later she reappeared, wet and draped in a towel. "Fire away!"
She flopped back onto the bed and pouted, thinking hard, and soon memories floated back. Last night she had once again foregone her meds in exchange for drinking. Yes... there had been a lot of drinking. She seemed to remember blurrily getting completely and utterly shit faced. She remembered screwing someone... but who? Hot damn, difficult question. She really couldn't remember.
Oh wait... now she could. It had been some wierdy bloke with a beard. Brea remembered this because he had been an ugly freak who looked a lot like a walrus. She had been trying to push him off her, but he'd been all over-excited. Oh yeah, it was all coming back now. Walrus sex, followed by tears and melodramatic claims of rape. Holy shit, she got unrealistic when drunk - which man who looked like a walrus wouldn't screw any girl so drunk she had forgotten her own name? That hardly constituted rape. And then she had run off in a melodramatic fashion, and ended up at Davids.
Man... how embarrassing. Turning up at David's room all drunk and wailing about a non-existent rape. What a loser... Well, at least she remembered now. But there was still one really important chunck missing from her memory of the night before: how had David reacted? Had he been angry at her for getting so utterly drunk? Had he been angry at her for screwing the walrus-man? Had he just agreed to let her stay over just to shut her up so that he could get some sleep?
Brea wanted to know, so she sat up again and poked David in the shoulder repeatedly. "heeeeyyy... Davy Boy! Rise and shine! Smell the daisies or whatever! I'm taking a shower and then you're giving me a low-down on whatever the fuck I did last night, m'kay?" Without waiting for a reply she sprung up from the bed and went for her shower, singing wildly out of tune as she washed her hair with whatever man-shampoo David had lying around. A short while later she reappeared, wet and draped in a towel. "Fire away!"