WHO: Lyra and Avery WHEN: January 2nd WHERE: A hotel room in Vegas WHAT: The magic hunters the morning after WARNINGS: TBD
Lyra’d woken up with a hangover or two over the years, and to start with, this one didn’t feel all that different. She cracked her eyes open and peered out, across, like, a whole goddamn expanse of bed. Wrinkled white hotel sheets lit too brightly by the morning (afternoon?) sun, which was coming in curtains that hadn’t been closed well last night. Or this morning. Or whenever they’d got back. Lyra groaned and rolled away from the terrible painful light, reaching for a blanket she could pull up over herself, and was surprised to find her arm in some sort of poofy sleeve. It felt a bit weird, twisted around her wrist, but it didn’t stop her finding a blanket and pulling it over her shoulder, which was naked (what was she wearing?)
Ugh, her top was uncomfortably twisted too, extra layers of tight fabric around her ribs where it’d been pushed down to expose her boobs, and yeah, yeah she remembered sloppily kissing Avery while he did that. She thought she even remembered falling off the bed, which was ridiculous, because it was enormous. She gave the dress a half hearted tug up but she couldn’t fix it without sitting up or opening her eyes and no way was she ready for that.
Hungover Lyra wasn’t so different from teen Lyra on a school morning. If she kept her eyes shut, the old wisdom went, then the morning couldn’t get her. Time wouldn’t move on. Responsibilities wouldn’t kick in. And there was no Jocelyn to yank the blankets away and get her out of bed right now. No Jocelyn or Jemma or job for over a thousand miles. No reason to have to get up. No reason to do anything but stay here in bed with Avery.
Under the seedy dehydration she had the strongest impression of a really great night. The casinos— they hadn't just stuck to their first one— and running down the strip together hunting more magic— and finding it in front of the Bellagio fountain, jets of water set to music dancing high over their heads— a display as grand as the fireworks on New Years had been, so impressive and full of so much surprise and wonder it felt like magic. It was a feat of human artistry and engineering but when the final jets had shot up as high as the massive hotel itself, it felt like magic was a more realistic explanation. Like water sprites, dancing their hearts out and Lyra and Avery were the chosen ones to witness it.
And she remembered shopping, she remembered Avery fastening a coat for her and telling her she was beautiful and she remembered pulling a cowboy hat down over his hair and giggling too hard to reply. And a cocktail that lit up from the bottom, she remembered that.
Ugh though, in this new, sun-shunning position, something was under her boobs. She let her hand do the work of excavating it, wasn’t the first time she’d woken up with things-that-weren’t-bedding, though in the past it had been maybe a chocolate wrapper or a receipt from the library she’d been using as a bookmark and this time it was… money.
Oh… yeah… alright then, Lyra thought, looking at the crumpled, hundred dollar note in her hand and shaking in a quiet laugh. Just waking up topless in a king sized bed after sleeping with money. Also she discovered when she rolled back a little more, a casino chip had stuck to the side of her tit. Lyra kept one eye open and peeled it off, leaving a perfect circular impression. This was so ridiculous. Hahaha what was her life?
“Hey Aves,” she croaked, though it came out more like one word than two, and when he stirred and turned toward her she flicked the warm casino chip at his forehead. And then closed her eyes and laughed very very carefully, so it wouldn’t shake her head.