Ford.
Another day, another hangover.
This is not a new feeling for me.
I have hangovers on a regular.
The rays from the sun hit my eyes and I feel the headache as it pulls its way out. "Fuck," I cry out as I sit on the bed. Opening my eyes, I look around the room and it is too fucking familiar.
The tiny bed, the little window just above it. Shit, try to move but there is someone lying down next to me, I know who it is. This is Lance's room. This is his apartment.
What the fuck am I doing here?
"You don't have to stop breathing," he mutters and turns to look at me.
I didn't realise I was even holding my breath. I manage to sit up and he watches me intently "Sorry,"
He shakes his head "You don't have to apologise, are you feeling okay?" he questions worriedly.
I nod.
