MorningMature

-Grey-

It's almost noon but Lou's still sleeping. I've been awake for a long while but I stay in bed with him, spooning, smelling his hair and sharing his dreams. He smell of sex and alcohol but I don't care.

For some reason, he sleeps a lot, to the point he might as well be in hibernation. Personally, I rarely sleep over five or six hours, with the only exception being when I'm smashed like I was last night. It's a miracle I remember any of it...

In my arms, Lucas sleeps and mumbles. I like when he's dreaming, it's alway entertaining, he mashes up so much things from his recent memories until it becomes a spiral of chaos and insanity. Right now, he's picturing the eleventh doctor fighting the avengers in a startrek-esque space battle. How his mind manage to combine these things is amazing and remains a mistery to me. I usually only dream of the past... Or when I'm lucky, of him.

Slowly, he wakes up from slumber and my mind begins to hurt. No, actually it's his head who's about to burst.

"Morning handsome." I whisper to his ears.

He moans a bit before stumbling out of the bed. He's clearly a huge lightweight. Last night, he was the least wasted guy in the house.

"Check my bag. The back pocket." I say to him in response of his silent cry for help.

Out of it, he takes out a bottle of large orange pills, they're just like aspirin only half a dozen time the strenght. I alway carry some around to alleviate the migraines I often get from the psychic feedback of the city.

He grumbles a thanks and try to leave the room just as I throw him his clothes. "Forgetting anything?" He only now remembers he's skyclad. Note to self; Lou and Alcohol, bad mix.

"Shower's clear. You go first." I say, getting my own clothes back on.

With the state we're in, there's no way school's an option. Not to mention we reeks of booze and we don't have any spare clothes. I'm sure as heck not going there wearing any of the girl's stuff.

I leave the bedroom just as lucas hop in the shower and head for the living room where Mia and Jen are on the couch. The latter having her head laying onto the lap of the former, her expression all grogy.

"Did you guys spend a good night? There's no possible way it's been worse than ours" Mia says mockingly as she run her hand across her girlfriend's hair, who's moaning like a zombie at the moment.

"never... again..." the sick girl moans.

I nod at her, kind of embarassed. Sure, they know, but it's a different thing than admiting you've just fucked your brains out all night.

"I'm going to take a wild guess. Too much vodka and a romantic date with the toilet?"

Jennifer moans in agreement or in annoyance. I don't speak the walking dead's language so I can't exactly tell. Probably both.

So I just slouch down on the nearby couch, waiting for my turn to hit the shower.

The End

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