Just One Bite

[2] Bite

BITE

The regret slipped in the moment I gained some sort of consciousness.

And aching in my skull ebbed and flowed like a freezing tide, the pain only growing never dampening. The insidious humdrum of the hangover had begun, though I could've sworn I said I wouldn't drink at that party.

This was by far the worst one I'd had to date. My tongue unstuck itself from its rooted place in my mouth and ran over my throbbing gums, like my teeth were loose and ready to pop out of place.

I peeled open an a sticky eye and I quickly realised the dimly lit room I was in wasn't my bedroom.

My eyes moved slowly over the space knowing if I looked around too quickly, my head would be sent spinning with no end. I was lying on a sofa made of dark leathery material, it was soft and warm to the touch. I'd been draped with a crocheted black throw that smelt freshly washed. There were two matching armchairs opposite, sitting behind a chipped wooden coffee table. The wallpaper looked like something someone would've done freshly in the 60's.

I looked around a little more in the dimly lit room to see if I could find out where I was. There was a window right above the sofa on the wall. I thanked whoever lived here for their forethought to draw the thick curtains to stop me having a worse headache when I woke up.

A dull creak came from just outside the room then the door to the room opened and a guy poked his head in.

He was tall, maybe about the height of the door itself and didn't look too much older than me.

He was in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a black t-shirt, hair a little on the wild side. He'd obviously just woken up, most likely having wanted to see if the stranger in his house was awake yet. His hair was light enough to be considered blonde, only barely, with eyes that were on me the moment he looked into the room, gaze as piercing as a gun.

"You're awake." He seemed surprised.

"Yeah."

He came in slowly. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Lyla Snow," I just managed to say, my hands shaking a little though it was warm under the blanket. "What's yours?"

The guy sat on one of the armchairs and placed a metal water bottle I hadn't realised he was holding on the coffee table. My throat itched. "I'm Rhys, Rhys Davenport."

"Hi," I said awkwardly, feeling too weighted down to get up just yet. "I'm sorry, um, do you live here?"

"Yeah. We're right by the Queen Mary, do you study there?"

A little bit of relief washed over me despite my growing headache. At least I wasn't miles away. "Yeah." My mouth turned to sandpaper. "Were you at the party last night, too?"

He shook his head, unable to meet my eye for a second. "I wanted some air last night so I went for a walk. I found you half a mile or so from the university. Do you remember anything from last night?"

I closed my eyes, shaking hands coming up to rub the gunk from the corners. Half a mile away? Just what the hell did Hettie and I do last night? She would probably laugh at the state of me when I got home, that or she'd be nursing her own hangover.

"We went to a party at the abandoned church, and then..." I winced, a pain in my upper gums coming and going in a quick fashion. Did I get punched in the mouth last night or something? I hoped not but it would be the only logical reason why my gums hurt like they did.

"And then?" he prompted.

"And then we..." I tried to think of what came next. The last thing that was clear was getting to the church. By half eleven It was already packed, a blur of strobe lights, drunken shouts and laughs. The bass from the DJ made the limestone columns shake. God... I never blacked out when I went drinking. Maybe my tolerance had gone down after not drinking for ages? Fuck. A sweat came to the back of my neck. "I don't remember exactly, it's all a bit," I finished the sentence by waving my hands around my face, since the night had literally gone over my head.