Cartherine

Can't they create some sort of new alcohol mixture for uptight losers? Something they could enjoy and not suffer the consequences afterwards? by 'they' ,I mean 'we'. And by 'we', I mean 'me.'

Groaning,I rubbed my face before moving my tangled mess of hair away from my face but quickly withdrew my hand just as light hit my face.

It was like the sky was screaming 'Good morning sunshine! Now get the hell up.' at me.

I had three bottles.

Four.

Glob I can't even remember. Mitchelle kept talking and my beer bottle never seemed to go empty.

I rolled my eyes just as I heard Damon's voice doing its usual routine. You can have him. He's one awful alarm clock.

Effective.

But awful.

I slumped back on my soft haven and tried covering his morning serenade with a pillow. I gave up when he decided to be Celine Dion and flipped the covers. This is not the way I want to deal with a hangover.

Wiggling until half of my body touched the cold floor, I simply slid down like a snake until I was on all my fours.

My eyes were just as stubborn as my feet,I crawled my way to the bathroom with them closed. Bringing my hand up, I grasped the bathroom's door knob to help me get on my feet like any other two-legged mammal.

I shuffled my way inside and rested my forehead on the cold tiled wall. I need a head doctor. And I'm feeling cold. Damon must've had the time of his life getting a stink-o to bed. I looked around, half-expecting to see clothes everywhere,I made a silent prayer of thanks that there was just one sock lying on the floor.

Surely he wouldn't mind me sharing his bathroom. I mean we already share his bedroom. Might as well.

Yawning, I did my morning stretches. Mainly consisting of groaning,pouting,and extreme body extension. I patted my cheeks just to make sure I was awake enough to list down reasons why drinking is a no-go and turned around to see the damage I've done to myself.

The first thing I saw was the smudged liner. I tried the cat thing. Rose told me it was trendy but eye make-up makes me feel sleepy. Using the pencil type was easy. But the liquid eyeliner? I'm no stranger to make-up and I try my best whenever I go out,which isn't often. It would just be quick dabs on the color palette and mascara. The liquid eyeliner proved to be a challenge since my hands decided not to cooperate.

Moving on.

Next was my beautiful maine. Hah. Right.

I collected my hair and pulled them up to see my pink,30% off, Christmas sale bonanza brassiere.

Oh glob.

Panicking,I looked down at the floor, trying to recall on who took off what.

He wouldn't.

I would've kicked him where it hurts if he did.

Looking back at his cabinet's mirror,I noticed something scrawled on my right arm,partly covered by my hair. It went from just right under my armpit down to my wrist. Letting go of my hair, I took notice of what seems to be...

No.

No. No. No. No.

"D-Damon!" I ran back to his bedroom, threw open his closet,grabbed a shirt and wore it as I went to where he was.

I found him in the middle of sipping his coffee.

"I-I" I felt like I was on drugs. Well I never really tried drugs before but it sure felt like I tried some now. I pointed at my arm, my eyes wide as his eyes roamed the fancy writing which I would probably have till I die. What am I going to tell my grandchildren?

He calmly put down his cup and crossed his arms on his chest,tilting his head sideways , just so he could read it better.

"You got a tattoo." I nodded. That's all I could really manage now.

He approached me and stood behind me, resting his hands on my shoulder. He lead me to a chair, and gently pushed me down. My body's on shutdown.

Still in a state of shock and confusion and something un-namable, I complied and just sat there,wringing my cold hands as I contemplated on how I'm going to explain this to anyone.

"I wasn't that dr-"

"You were very intoxicated,bonbon."

I sighed as he placed a cup of smoking coffee in front of me. Inhaling,the scent of it calmed my nerves. Haven't I promised not to drink again?

"It's not so bad." He took another sip and looked at it like it was some Van Gogh piece of art.

I rolled the sleeve of the shirt that I was wearing and looked at him."Not- uh,can you not read? He could've at least spelled it right! Wait no. It's better this way. No it's not better this way. I'm going to have to wear long sleeves forever." I raised my arms and took another look.

Of all the crazy-

I was about to put them down when he held my right arm and kept it there. He took another look at it, then met my eyes.

"Mitch told me you asked him to give you a tat. He said you asked him to put this on you." I tried pulling my arm down but he gripped it tighter and raised it back up, exposing the writing in broad daylight. I could barely look at it.

"You already said it. I was intoxicated. I am not going to be held responsible for the decisions I make when I consumed an unreasonable amount of alcohol." I lifted my chin and looked him straight in the eye. Not easy since I can already feel the heat on my neck creeping its way to my face.

"You had three bottles, bonbon."

"You know I don't drink. But Mitchelle gave me a bottle and it was rude to decline. And you dissappeared and I was having fun and he said he knows how to tattoo and I can't remember. "I glared at him. He was pretty occupied with looking at my tattoo.

"You know, you're right. He should've got it right. Maybe you said it to him in this specific manner. " rubbing the stubble on his chin with his other hand as he squinted his eyes.

I slapped his arm ,my hand creating a red mark on his skin. "You really think I would ask him to write Damon's Beyotch on my arm if I happened to be sober? You know how many long sleeves I own?! Five! So I'd have to re-"

"It isn't permanent, bonbon. It'll come off." He loosened his hold, letting my arm lay on the table as he sat down beside me.

"You have to hand it down to the man,he did a neat job." His finger slowly made its way to my palm, tracing the word beyotch with such slowness,I was tempted to pull my hand away.

The cursive writing really was beautiful. It was clean and classy. No skulls. Thank glob I didn't think of suggesting.

But having the word Beyotch doesn't make it any better,does it?

I followed his hand as it traced the letters, but pulling away as soon as he started nearing his name.

Clearing my throat, I tried to casually take a sip of coffee as he looked at me.

"I'm sorry I left you with all those gorillas." from the corner of my eye, I saw him touching his ear.

"I understand. Duty calls. Good news is, this tattoo isn't permanent." I gave him a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder.

He grinned and patted my shoulder back. "Yeah. It would be like it was never there." Feeling more relieved than when I first saw the ink, I took another sip of coffee. "After three weeks or so. Maybe a month."

I almost spilled my coffee. And there he was, trying his hardest not to laugh. It doesn't wash out with soap?

"A month?" he nodded, and with a steady voice "Guess you better start shopping."

This is frustrating. I'm not going to survive, much more look decent when my prince comes along. Is he into tattoos? I mean this one will fade but what if he finds out I have some reaper's name on my arm. Worse, it has beyotch in it. Oh glob.

"You'll be fine,bonbon."

I snorted. "Easy for you to say. You don't have any tattoos. And you don't have to hide if you ever had any. It'll make you look cooler."

He smirked and poked my nose. " Now you're admitting that I'm cool without them. Never thought you'd think so highly of me."

I snickered and shook my head,deciding not to argue with him.

We continued this silence until a series of knocks came from the living room.

"I'll get it." He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. He took another look at my arm and I had to glare at him as I lowered my-his shirt's sleeve. At least I'm wearing pants now.

I heard him open the door but no footsteps or voices chattering long after. Frowning,I got up and made my way to the living room. Ellie would've walked straight to the kitchen. And Rose would've yelled my name. Damon would groan if it was Benjie. Our guest list is pretty short.

Walking barefoot,I made my way to where Damon was,hiding my right arm behind my back.

You know, just in case.

Damon's a tall guy but from the side,I could see familiar curls and the signature bag that I got her for mother's day. She must've sensed that and bended sideways. She took one look at me and mouthed a 'sorry' before being covered by Damon's body.

Could this day get any worse?

I walked over to Damon's left side and slowly hid my arm behind him, my other hand trying to make my hair look like I didn't just get out of bed.

My mom was with someone who treated me like a princess until I begged him to stop because I was thirteen. He has the same steel blue eyes as my sister,his once blonde hair, slowly turning to silver. He was as tall as Damon and has this dominating posture that made him feared but admired by a lot of people.

I never found him intimidating when I was a kid. He always looked at his children with love and affection that this man in front of our apartment looked like an evil landlord.

I looked up to see Damon meeting this man straight in the eye. Neither of them looking away.

Damon was the first one to finally look my way. His eyes were calm and I relaxed a little, unaware that my arm was now on his waist, until I felt his hand intertwine with mine. He gave me a small smile and I looked at my mom just in time to see her hide a smile.

The man pointedly looked at her and she pouted.

Remember when you were a kid and you know the signs when you're in big trouble?

Hazel eyes met steel blue as I attempted to smile the smile I used to get off the hook back when I was young.

"Heyya daddy."

He all but looked at me with a blank expression and I felt Damon's hand tighten on mine.

Sometimes,life's such a Mitch.

He fixed his tie before saying the words that confirmed my suspicion that I'm in deep horse doo-doo.

"Catherine Marks Wright."

Yyup. Doo-doo.