Who: Penny Clearwater and Will Bradley What: The morning after the night before. When: Sunday morning, late. Where: Notting Hill, London Status: In Progress Rating: TBD
There was a glint from the gap where the curtains met the windowsill that was piercing, burning a hole in the back of Pennys skull challenged only by the consistent 'thump thump' of her head. The hangover she'd inflicted on herself had coursed its way through her body and as she lay in the soft down of the mattress, Penny knew that opening her eyes would be a Very Bad Idea. From what she could remember of the gala, it had been a success but thinking too much about it only intensified the dull headache that was threatening to have her seeking the solace of the cold side of the pillow. She was never, ever drinking again and once she found the energy to move to get the hangover potion in the cupboard beside her, she was going to vow that promise again.
She had a vague recollection of making a similar promise a few years back when there had been ouzo involved and a strange bruise on her back that she'd never been able to explain. She gave a groan, realising that her throat worked and stretched, toes curling and exploring the unknown part of the bed. It had been a while since she'd experienced a Sunday morning hangover and since there were no expectations for her day, Penny had every intention of spending it in bed feeling sorry for herself.
Her foot grazed something solid. Something warm and solid. There was someone else in the bed with her. Ice cold shock slid down her as Penny realised she had zero recollection of the name of the person in bed with her and glanced down, pulling the covers away from her own body. Yup. She was naked and that languid feeling which she'd put down to the alcohol was actually from good sex. Bloody hell, just what had she gotten up to last night? Did she want to turn around or chance making a dash for it?