Ideas for stories

My eyes opened, I rolled over and looked at Jinxx lying on the pillow next to mine.

Fuck. This is not what I meant to do at all.

I left bed quietly and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. My eyeliner was smeared around my eyes raccoon style, my hair was a tangled mess. After a night of fluffing my hair up at the back in an attempt to look stylish, as though my hair could hold volume, my hands smelled like hairspray and spilled booze.

I looked like a mess in the mirror, there’s no salvaging it. I am just the chick he woke up next to the night after a gig after all, why hide it?

He went through the trouble of showering after his show and I endlessly fixed my eyeliner and hair but I still looked like I’d been through hours in a mosh pit, and I had been when we’d met. I found my underwear on the floor and stepped onto the balcony for a smoke, sliding the glass door closed quietly behind me.

I had a wicked hangover setting in, the smoke only helped by covering the hairspray scent up. Smelling like smoke wasn’t any better but it was something. I hated the idea of showering then changing into last night’s clothing after, but I wasn’t sure if I hated looking like last night’s leftovers enough to do anything about it.

Notes