Elysandre's POV
I pull myself into the kitchen the following morning. I need coffee and lots of water. I am ashamed to face Charlie, who saw me in my drunken state. Oh f**k, I touched his chest. Charlie is standing in the kitchen with a smile on his face. He looks at me, amused. I can hardly see through my eyes. Never again! I do not understand why people drink if they feel like they are going to die the next day.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Charlie asks. I feel like I can slap the smug smile off his face.
"The world wobbled like a carnival ride gone rogue. Light stabs through my eyelids like sharp, white knives. My mouth is a desert, dry and unforgiving, tasting of yesterday’s mistakes and old wine. I feel as if my body was borrowed, a fragile vessel carrying the lingering gh
