Bruno
I woke up to the dull throb of a headache, the remnants of last night’s drinking still swirling in my mind. The memories were hazy—laughter, clinking glasses, and the overwhelming haze of too much alcohol.
I groaned, rolling over in bed, hoping to find some comfort in the cool sheets. Instead, I was met with the sight of Freya, my supposed girlfriend, sprawled next to me, her warm, bare skin pressing against my side.
I felt irritation flare up inside me. Her hands rested on my chest, and I pushed her away with more force than I intended. “Get off me,” I demanded, my voice rough from sleep and lingering irritation.
Freya stirred, frowning as she woke up. “Good morning, you didn’t have to push me,” she muttered, yawning and scratching her eyes, the remnants of sleep still clingin
