There was an arm draped over me. Did I somehow magically spawn an extra arm during the night? If not where did this arm come from? Better yet who did the arm belong to? I was really concerned about this arm. Hesitantly I shifted my hand and found the hand attached to the mystery arm. The fingers felt rough, masculine. Based on that I presumed the arm belonged to a man. What was a man doing in bed with me? How had he ended up in bed with me? Suddenly I was concerned more with how the arm came to be draped over me than the actual arm itself. His fingers twitched, causing me jump slightly and have reality crash around me.
Oh god, I was naked. He was naked. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was so not good. I'm not the kind of girl who does the whole one night stand thing. My head was pounding and my whole body ached. Shit. We had sex. I just knew it, from the way certain muscles felt to that weird, pseudo-calm feeling I only got after mind-blowing sex, and the obvious fact we were both naked and spooning. My mind began racing, well as much as it could while still in the typical just woke up hungover grogginess. There was light coming from somewhere taking no pity on me while shining in all its glaring glory on my face. Without thinking I groaned causing a chain reaction of events that my hangover-addled mind could barely comprehend. His arm slid off me as I brought my own hand up to cover my still closed eyes. There was a groan, decidedly way more masculine than I could ever sound, that came from somewhere behind me. As I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact there was someone else in bed with me when the slightly cold feeling of something hard against my nose stopped all my thoughts dead in their tracks. Did I do something to my hand last night that I don't remember? Needing to know immediately about my hand, because that was so much more important than the stranger I slept with, I wrenched my eyes open. Pulling my hand back a little from my face my eyes focused on the small silver band glowering at me from my left ring finger. I sat up quickly, dismissing the almost instant dizziness.
"What the fuck?" I exclaimed somewhere between a squawk and a shriek.
Disregarding my lack of clothing I turned to the man who was now grumbling about loud noises and rubbing his eyes. Another silver band, this time from his ring finger, glared at me. Without warning I harshly pulled his left hand from his face so I could get a closer look. Definitely real. Fuck. My stomach dropped, further than it ever had before. I slowly raised my head and found him staring intently at me. We held each other's gaze for at least a few minutes, the awkward silence filling with tension. Finally he yanked his hand out of mine, me having forgot I was still holding it. I watched as he looked down at his hand then shifted his gaze to mine. He looked back and forth, as if not believing the obvious evidence right in front of him. As the rest of the cloudiness cleared from my mind images and memories from last night bombarded me.
Ashley's bachelorette party (more like weekend), the ridiculous drinks, dancing, finding myself alone (finally) at the end of the bar, a drop dead sexy stranger, more drinking (this time without the ridiculous drinks), talking, lots of kissing said drop dead sexy stranger, looking at myself in the mirror wearing a semi-short pitch black dress, some guy in a preacher get-up announcing us husband and wife. Wait, husband? Wife?
I looked to the stranger again, the same drop dead sexy stranger from the night before, in a panic. I watched as he finally realized the same thing I did. We were married.
"Daryl," I whispered, pulling his name from my obviously not so drunken memories.
"Rhetta," he breathed out, having done the same.
He glanced behind me and focused on something. I turned and saw what looked to be a very damning piece of paper sitting haphazardly on the night stand. Reaching for it I finally grasped that I was in fact naked. I could feel a slight blush run across my face and the choked sounding cough from Daryl signaled he was just now aware. Pulling the sheet up I grabbed the paper and turned back to face him. We both stared at the very official looking and very legal marriage certificate declaring us, Daryl Dixon and Rhetta Grace Hays, bound in holy matrimony the night before.
Something that has been floating around in my head for long enough that I had to put it on paper. It is definitely able to be expanded upon should I feel like it and if you (lovely reader) think it has potential.