The moment I opened my eyes the next morning, I knew I had to get to the bathroom quickly. I leapt up, stumbling, and ran to the bathroom, skidding to my knees in front of the toilet.

Throwing open the lid, I felt a wave of regret as I threw up the night of yesterday. Not a pleasant feeling, having your bowels forcefully ejected alongside a mixture of alcahol. But I'd been here before, just usually with a laughing albino next to me, calling me a lightweight.

I remembered the first time I'd drank German beer, the really strong stuff, with Gil by my side, telling me to go easy. I'd laughed in his face, of course, and probably said something along the lines of "I'm Italian, I can hold my alcahol", before necking the whole thing and slamming it on the coffee table. Gil had just shook his head, laughing. "You're gonna regret that" he'd said, and of course, he was right. That morning had been a hectic and chaotic series of rushing to the toilet at random intervals to try not to vomit on the carpet. I could still remember the feeling of his hand sparing my hair from the tirade.

Suddenly, a cool hand placed on my forhead, and pushed back my fringe that was hanging dangerously close to my mouth. I gasped, coughed a little, and swung my head around to see a pair of sky blue eyes staring at me. I coughed again, trying to hide the gasp, and narrowed my eyes.

"The fuck do you want, bastard?" I spat.

"Oh, I just thought you looked so beautiful projectile vommiting into the toilet that I had to come and stare at you." He replied sarcastically.

I tutted angrily, opened my mouth to speak, then felt a turn in my stomach, so I spun back around to the toilet and began a whole new episode of toilet adventures. Ludwig chuckled next to me, so I simply flipped him off, then put my hand back down to keep balance. Needless to say, I didn't want to fall over and vomit on the bathroom floor.

"No seriously." I said through sharp breaths. "Why are you here?" I retched again.

"You kept your half of the deal, so I'm keeping mine."

I raised my brows, confused, and began to open my mouth but Ludwig replied before I could ask.

"Oh wait. You were black out drunk, I forgot. You said that if you didn't vomit on the sofa, I'd hold your hair back."

"Oh." I managed to get out before turning back to the toilet and starting the process again.

It felt a little weird, being on my hands and knees, vommiting into a toilet while the equivalent of a stranger held my hair back, but I was thankful for the help.

"I've never seen someone this hungover since Gil went out to the beerhall on Maid Night." Ludwig remarked.

"The fuck is Maid Night?" I retched.

"It's when all the waiters and waitresses dress as maids and serve you like that." He explained.

"That's fucking weird." I spat. "Then again... he probably does have... a maid fetish..." I said through heaving breaths.

"Don't say things that you don't know." Ludwig defended, but I looked at him through darkened eyes.

"You're not the one... who's dressed up... in a maid outfit... and had sex with him." I heaved.

Ludwig's eyes widened. "You have?"

"Fuck you." I replied.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Fishnets and everything." I said sarcastically.

"Really?" Ludwig asked.

"Really. Fucking knee-high black stilettos as well." I coughed.

He chuckled. "What else?"

I retched again, threw up a little more, then coughed. "A dunno, a fucking collar at one point."

"Wow."

"You better not fucking be getting off on this, bastard!" I shouted.

"What, while you're vommiting rught next to me?" Ludwig shot back sarcastically.

"Fuck you." I retched, then threw up again.

"You done yet?" He laughed.

"Fuck... you...!"

"Concentrate on vommiting and not on witty comebacks."

About an hour later, the vommiting had stopped, eventually ending in bile and alcahol. I washed out my mouth, brushed my teeth with a spare toothbrush, then ate about ten breathmints. I took a shower, then grabbed the overnight bag I'd brought, pulling out some new clothes. I dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a tight purple tank top and a black denim jacket with three quarter sleeves. I stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the living room, where Ludwig was on his laptop. The coffee table still hadn't been cleaned.

"Holy shit." I said, staring at all the bottles.

"Yup. That's why you just spent an hour and a half vommiting." Ludwig replied, peering over his laptop.