FAKERS, ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠

17.

TW: VERY, VERY brief mention of vomit at the beginning. (not graphic obvs)

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millie woke up, her head already aching and her eyes hurting. she blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright sunlight flooding the room. she sat up slowly, and it suddenly dawned on her that she wasn't in her own bed.

for a moment, she wasn't sure where she was, but then she noticed the design on the curtains, and she realised she was in the sturniolo's living room. she didn't know why she was there, but a wave of nausea made her forget the question. she leapt off the couch and rushed to the bathroom, reaching it just in time.

once she was done vomiting, she stood up shakily and looked at herself in the mirror. she almost gasped at her reflection - her hair was a mess, her make-up was smudged and she was...well, she had been expecting to still be wearing her dress, but she wasn't.

she was wearing a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants - she didn't remember dressing in that. she stood in the bathroom for a few minutes, putting her hair into two plaits and washing the make-up from her face when somebody began urgently banging at the door and twisting the handle.

she barely unlocked it before chris stumbled in, vomiting into the toilet. she was honestly so surprised at his pace that she didn't even leave the bathroom, just looking at him in confusion. after a few moments, she laughed slightly and chris looked at her, wiping his mouth roughly.

''what?'' he asked.

''you moved so fast.'' she laughed.

''i didn't want to, trust me.'' he said as he stood up, flushing the toilet. he noticed millie's hair, pointing at it. ''looks cute.''

''thank you.'' she replied, putting her hands under her chin sarcastically and then sighing. ''i feel so sick.''

''same. can we go downstairs and get a drink?''

''yes please.''

the two of them walked downstairs, walking extra quietly past the bedrooms so not to wake anyone, and then went to the kitchen. chris pulled open the fridge, asking millie what she wanted, and then threw a bottle of water of her. she sipped it lightly before scrunching up her face in disgust at the boy in front of her.

''you're drinking pepsi? whilst hungover?''

''i don't fuck with water.'' he shrugged.

''that's fucking disgusting. you're going to be sick.''

''i'll risk it.''

''weirdo.'' she replied, rolling her eyes and then cleared her throat. ''why am i even here?''

''because you were drunk, and we thought it would be safer if you stayed here.''

''and the outfit?''

''my clothes.''

her mouth dropped open. ''you undressed me?! whilst i was drunk?!''

''i didn't!''

''you should be on some kind of register, christopher.''

''millie!'' he replied irritably. ''i didn't! they're my clothes, but nick helped you put them on.''

''how am i meant to believe you?''

''because why would i want to undress you?!'' he asked, and then a smirk appeared on his face. ''if its just to put other clothes on you after.''

''ew! chris!'' she laughed, and then thought of something. ''why the fuck did i sleep on the couch?''

''nick tried getting you to sleep in his bed, but you kept running away so he just locked you out.'' chris laughed. ''matt crashed as soon as he went to his room, and phoebe is sleeping in mine right now.''