Natalia awoke to a sharp headache, the morning light streaming in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. She squinted, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings. Her mouth felt dry, and her body felt heavier than it should. As she slowly sat up, a wave of confusion and regret washed over her.
What happened last night?
She glanced around the room, her eyes falling on Ambrose, who was still asleep, sprawled on the bed next to her. His dark hair was tousled, and his body was half-covered by the sheets. The sight of him, so close and vulnerable, sent a twinge of guilt through her.
She couldn't remember the details clearly. It was all a blur—a haze of laughter, teasing, and then… it had all spiraled out of control.
Natalia rubbed her temples, trying to piece together the events. Was I really that drunk?
