Chapter 57 - Hangover

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Annie's eyes fluttered open. The room spun hard and she groaned as her stomach rolled.

"Fuck," she said, rolling over and forcing her oddly heavy limbs to move.

She didn't know where she was, but she knew she had to get to a toilet or she was puking on everything. But the room was spinning so badly she couldn't orient herself and she whimpered, slapping a hand over her mouth as she gagged.

Hands grabbed her hips and a shadow moved over her, shoving something under her face just as she heaved violently, puking up her entire life and maybe part of her soul.

Those hands, large and warm, gathered her hair and held it back as she heaved over and over. When she finally stopped puking with a shudder, a towel pressed beneath her nose, cleaning her face before a glass of water touched her lips.

She swished the water, cool and sweet tasting, around her mouth before spitting it out, then gulped the entire glass greedily.

The room still spun and she tried to look at who was helping her, but she couldn't focus. All she could see was a large shadow in the dark and what looked like a gleam of eyes.

She blinked hard and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"Who... where am..." she couldn't make her words work and whoever the shadow man was who was caring for her, pressed her down into the bed, petting her hair and saying, "Se, se. Annie. Se, se. Sleep."

When she opened her eyes again sometime later after swimming through loud, spinning drunk dreams, she felt slightly better, though her mouth was dry as a desert and she still felt queasy. Her body felt bruised the way it would after a long, hard burn, and holy fuck could she smell herself! Had she bathed in puke and rocket fuel?

She rubbed her eyes and stared up at the ceiling as she yawned.

Then she blinked, eyebrows coming together in a frown. Why did the ceiling look like stone?

Her eyes drifted to the left. This bed looked massive and the wan, grayish light that crept in from the window illuminated an even larger room.

Annie froze when she realized she could hear someone breathing beside her.

Oh-no, she thought. Who did I rebound fuck this time?

If she was quiet enough, maybe she could sneak out without the proverbial walk of shame.

Slowly, Annie turned her head.

At first, she didn't understand what she was seeing. Her brain simply didn't accept it. Then, like one of those abstract seeing eye optical illusions, it popped out at her and she gasped, her entire body flinching.

The alien's eyes snapped open, instantly focusing on her.

Annie fought against the blankets and sheets, becoming tangled as she scrambled to get away.

The bed creaked as he sat up, metallic eyes fixed on her.

She yelped as she fell from the bed and landed hard.

"Ow," she groaned. "Is this floor made of rocks? Why would someone make a floor out of rocks?"

A deep chuckle filled the dim room and Annie gulped, sitting up slowly. She got to her knees and peeked over the bed.

He was impossibly big, amazingly muscled, dark, and with piercing, metallic yellow eyes. Eyes that watched her from where he'd sat up.

"Are you okay?" he asked in English. His voice was so deep and gravelly it was like grinding stone and his words were accented as though he pronounced most of his consonants at the back of his throat. Maybe it was just the big fucking tusks jutting from his lower lip.

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