Lupo

Chapter Four: Bad Moon Rising.

I'm sorry the ending is so crappy. Wattpad didn't save this chapter so I had to write the whole thing again and by the end of it all I was just bored of it. Anyways. Let me know what you think!

(Picture above of Leala!)

(C) Copyright SJCCLEWIS 2015

When consciousness eventually returned to Darcie, she was not immediately aware that her surroundings were unfamiliar. Indeed, when she sat up and opened her eyes, she was far too preoccupied with dry-heaving to notice that the bed she was currently lying in was not her own.

The sheets were soft, grey cotton, and the tell-tale crackle of the duvet and pillows informed her that they were feather-stuffed. The bed itself was made of polished wood, which curved up behind her back in a contemporary - styled headboard, and which sat against the wall of one of the most immaculate rooms she'd ever seen.

Darcie blinked confusedly as the exquisitely papered walls swam before her vision. Her chest ached and her stomach churned. A hazy memory of tequila and vodka forced itself into the forefront of her recollection and she swore under her breath, willing herself not to vomit.

"Where am I?"

As if in response to her unvoiced question, there came a knock at the door.

"Fuck."

Before she could answer, the door was pushed open ajar and a familiar, grinning face squashed itself into the gap.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Darcie blinked.

"Tito!" she blurted, half surprised, half relived. "Hi."

Tito took in her bleary eyes, ashen face and tangled hair and laughed. Kicking the door fully open, he skipped across the carpet and threw himself down beside her on the bed.

"You look well!" he teased, grinning up at her as she groaned and ran a hand threw her tangled mane. "How are you feeling?"

Darcie leant away from him and ducked her head, choosing to direct her morning breath anywhere but his face.

"Not great." She grimaced. "Ugh I stink!"

Tito laughed again.

"Yeah, you do." he pulled a face. "I can smell the alcohol on you!"

Darcie would have stuck her tongue out at him, were it not for the fresh wave of nausea which hit her then. She groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"God, what happened last night?" she mumbled, pausing to ensure she wasn't going to wretch before she gingerly laid her head upon the pillows again. "How much did I drink? I can't remember anything."

Tito wriggled onto his side and grinned mischievously at her.

"You fainted!" he smirked, prodding her pale cheek with a mocking finger. "So we had to bring you home with us."

Darcie frowned. A groggy memory of blonde hair and a pretty face swam hazily into her mind.

"Oh god." she moaned, the events of the night before beginning to piece themselves together again. "Your friend - did I pass out on her?"

Tito grinned impossibly wider. "Leala?" he asked, his eyes full of mirth. "Yes you did."

Darcie crushed her face into the duvet and groaned emphatically.

"Oh wonderful." she huffed, more to herself than to Tito, who was chuckling gleefully at her expense. "Darcie Brookes, the epitome of class and sophistication."