I sleep naked. That' cool, its natural, I'm comfortable, no one will see me. I wake up every morning; lay in my bed for at least half an hour willing myself to leave the safety of my duvet. That's what I do in the morning. What I do not do is Topher Brink. Who is currently in my bed. And I'm naked. And I think he's naked. And there's an onion ring on my ring finger. I can't remember a good portion of last night.

I really fucking hate vodka.

Like… a lot.

So fucking much.

I sit up, my back against the headboard of my bed when I realise that my bed doesn't have a headboard. I hang my head, partly from shame, partly from the grim realisation that we are still in Vegas. Of course.

At this point in time, I feel as though I should tell you what this is all about. My name is Elysia. We've just finished our final exams - we being myself, Topher and our rag-tag bunch of misfits. We decided all to have one final blow out before we got jobs and… lives. There was vodka; that much I remember. Brightly coloured shot glasses… We played the slot machines for about ten minutes before the last strands of logic told us that we had no chance of winning the jackpot. Topher said he could rig one of the machines, but we caught sight of the security guard giving us the evil eye and we all slipped away laughing. The rest is… sort of completely gone.

I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, brushing my auburn hair from my vision, sighing softly. I contemplated calling one of my other friends, but the conversation didn't go over well in my head.

Me: Hi! Wow, what a crazy night! (nervous laugh) That security guard, right? Me marrying Topher? Crazy! Midnight Burger King: Win!

Them: Hey, I may still be a little bit drunk, but it sounded like you said… you married Topher.

Me: And midnight Burger King.

Them: Holy shit! I have to tell the gang! I'll call you back in ten minutes!

Tada! Four lines. Topher stirs beside me and I flinch, taking the pillow from behind my back and clutching it to my chest, burying my face in it, silently whispering curse words and trying to calm down. Oh! Little detail - I have a huge thing for Topher. I lift my head away from the fluffy, white safe-haven and resist the urge to dig my nails into my arms.

He's looking around the room, slowly, until his eyes fall on me. A thousand things whirl through my mind, what to say, and what to ask, what to splutter…

"Where the fuck are your pants?" I growl; it's less of a question than it is a statement. He blinks slowly, taking in my curled up, naked form.

"Where are yours?" He asks after several moments.

"Every nineties sitcom ever says that they're on the floor along with my," I start counting on my finger as I talk, "shirt, jacket, shoes, socks, bra and under garments." I pause for a moment, slowly clutching the pillow back to my chest before nodding slightly in his direction. "Along with all of your clothes."

"Well, then… there's your answer… Wait, what?" He does a double take, taking in the scene once more. He then locks eyes with me and I swallow, hoping the fear is not reflected in my own. "El," He asks very slowly and deliberately, "Where are my pants?"

"I didn't care to check." I hiss. He groans, pressing his face into his own pillow. I take a deep breath, willing myself, once more, to calm down. "Ok. We're… Not clothed. In Vegas. There are two possible explanations. A) We gambled away all of our clothes and got a hotel room together. B) We got married." I pause, looking intently at the wall opposite myself before adding, "I'm in favour of explanation A."

Topher snorted in derision, "You aren't the gambling type." He looks at me and I allow a small smirk to grace my features.

"If there's food involved, I don't mind winning some dough." I chuckle and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"That was terrible and you know it. Since when do you bet on food?" He tilts his head as I smile proudly.

"When I was five, I ate an entire ham… For a quarter. It's been an on and off thing ever since." I fidget happily remembering the moment, I threw up twice after but it was totally worth it.

"Really? I never would have guessed." He laughs softly. I feel the blush heat my cheeks and I clutch my pillow self-consciously to my stomach. "I drank eighteen cups of coffee in three hours once." He say, making me sigh, smiling.

"I was there. You were studying for your midterms and made a crude diorama of the brain with the empty cups."

"Which you set on fire. With powder." His snark came through clear and I smirked.

"It was phosphorus, what did you expect; butterflies?" The two of us smiled and I rested my head on the headboard, sighing, softly.

"Why didn't you leave?" He asks, suddenly.

"Because I'm not a prostitute, I didn't want to wake you nor am I robbing you." I sigh, my happiness slowly slipping away.

"Why didn't you at least… well, I don't know, get dressed?" He asks, exasperated, and I roll my eyes.

"Physics, Topher. If the mattress moves, the mattress fucking moves! If weekend study sessions are anything to go by, you're a light sleeper." I hiss and he chuckles.

"Well, I'm awake now; you should get put on clothes." He says, I narrow my eyes at him.

"No peeking." I warn and he covers his eyes. I stay motionless, scrutinizing him as his smile grows.

"You trust me, right?" He asks, to which I sigh, smiling softly.

"Unfortunately." I see him grin and allow a smile of my own. "You find this funny?" I ask. He deliberates for a moment before answering.

"Sort of. Get dressed." I sigh, dropping the pillow from my hold. The air is rather warm, which is pleasant, and I totter to the end of the bed, unsure as to what I would find there. It's a mixture of relief and fear that greets me as I see the clothes scatted about, my bra and undergarments the closest which I hastily put on. I spotted my jeans in a crumpled heap nearby, along with a piece of paper. I wiggle into my jeans, picking up the piece of paper.

"Oh shit." I mutter.

"What? What is it? Am I allowed to see?" Topher asks. I roll my eyes.

"You probably should." I sigh, climbing onto the bed, sitting on my knees beside him as I show him the paper.

"Two things. We're married. We were married by a stripper." I sigh.

"Her name is Candy! That's fun!" He laughs nervously, turning to look at me. He does a slight double take, as though noticing me for the first time, his eyes slowly traveling downward. I move back chanting curse words under my breath.

"What? I'm a guy, very-female-friend. And also, black lace?" He smiles at me in the cheeky way that I adore. I flounder for words for a moment.

"Just… please close your eyes." I ask, to which he does. I walk across the room, picking up my t-shirt and sweater, pulling them over my head. "I don't have to justify myself to you." I say, sitting cross legged on the opposite corner of the bed. Topher opens his eyes, rolling his eyes at me.

"I'm not going to bite you." He sighed, before reconsidering. "I may bite you… I don't know… Did I bite?" He grins at me once more and I feel my face turn vermillion. His expression softens at my discomfort, and he says to me: "Close your eyes, I want to get dressed." I bury my face in my hands and he gets up.

"Seriously, I can't remember anything past Texas Hold 'Em. What… Happened?" He asks as he got dressed. I snorted.

"I can't remember Texas Hold 'Em. I woke up with an onion ring on my finger and you." I tell him.

"An onion ring?"

"Well, it was cold, so I ate it." I admit, making him laugh.

"Of course you did." He snickers. I fall forward onto the bed, groaning and throwing a pillow… somewhere. I don't really check.

"Sorry." He says. I say with my nose pressed uncomfortably to the bed and duvet.

"For what?" Comes my muffled reply.

"For marrying and possibly biting." He says. I smile into the duvet before it quickly turns into a frown as he sits on the bed beside me.

"So you didn't want to marry me?" I ask, my eyebrows rose. He opens his mouth to speak, before closing it, a gesture he repeats several times, looking pointedly at anything but me.

"I don't know how to answer." He says, finally.

"It's OK," I admit, "You wouldn't be the first guy to leave me the night after our wedding." He turns pale looking at me to which I laugh and hit him on the arm, "Geeze, I'm not that easy." The sense of unease and ultimate sadness begins building in my stomach and is not as easy to push down as they say it is in the books.

"El…" He mutters. The smile I wear seems sad, I can feel the resigned understanding in my eyes, forcing me to look away.

"Topher," I sigh, "I get it. Everything is changing this was a 'last hurrah' kind of thing. I'm going to be a teacher… You've got that thing at Rossum…" I trail off. We're silent for a few more minutes before Topher turns to me.

"Come with me. To LA." He says, and I stammer for a moment. "You can teach anywhere. Probably even with Rossum. I'm still unsure what they do." He says, almost to himself.

"You're a genius." I mutter to him, to which he smiles, nodding slightly. "No, I mean you are a genius." He frowns slightly.

"There is literally only one meaning for that word." He says. I curl up slightly, facing him.

"Rossum called you. They want a genius, they want a smart guy, they want you. Not a high-school chemistry teacher." I sighed.

"Technically, you're still a chemistry student." A pang of hurt washes over my face. "El, you're sending me mixed signals." He laughs nervously. I run my hands through my hair.

"Because you need someone like…" I think for a moment, "Who was the girl in the newspaper a few months ago?" I asked, racking my brains. It suddenly clicks, "Bennett." I said, he frowns.

"Who?"

"She was in the newspaper, for some academic thing, neuroscience nerd like you." I said, laughing as tears begun to form in my eyes.

"Then why-" I get out of the bed, pacing nervously, hands balled into fists, pulling at my hair, tears dripping onto the floor.

"That shouldn't matter. This… This never happened, Topher." I say, rather nervously.

"Wh-what? Why?" He asked, getting up off of the bed, coming towards me. I began to emit a high-pitched noise. "El!" He says, hugging me awkwardly as I sob.

"I'm freaking out. Topher, I love you. I'm sorry." I mutter, sniffling. "Reality's a bitch."

"In the past ten minutes you went through, like twenty different emotions." He says, softly.

"I was married by a stripper to a guy who can't even say the word erection." I mutter, to which Topher chuckles.

"You're focusing on the bad parts. I had a wild night with a hot, smart girl that I can't remember." He smiles at me.

"Not remembering is a good part?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but the wild-night, smart-girl thing is." He said. It's an awkward moment of staring into each other's eyes (not nearly as romantic as movies play it up to be, especially when you're so close you have to pick an eye to look at).

"We should probably kiss." I mumble, blushing.

"Sounds about right." He says, leaning in. The kiss isn't awkward as I had anticipated, but warm. There's passion, and a spark, and I feel like he's the only thing keeping me from floating away. It hits me that I have had very little practice at this. His hands were wrapped loosely around my waist and my hands are around his neck as he grins, breaking the kiss.

And just like that I'm back in the ninth grade, nervous about my first kiss, self-conscious about everything and red as a tomato. "You're infuriating." I mumble and he laughs.

"You're finicky." He smiles at me and I smile back, softly. The smile slides from his face and he sighs.

"I have to work for Rossum."

"I know." I whisper, resting my head against his shoulder.

"El, you have a great butt and you can recite and eat a whole tonne of Pi(e). I…" He struggles and a sad smile spreads across my face.

"It's OK, I know you can't say it. You can name every part of the brain and your hair is stupid in the most gorgeous way."

"My hair is stupid?" He asks, patting it self-consciously. I giggle.

"I only like guys with gorgeously stupid hair. Johnny Depp is one." I grin. Topher raises a single eyebrow.

"When he's in Pirates of the Caribbean?" I nod. Topher breaks out into a grin, "Even I have a man-crush on him. That guy…"

"Come on, you cannot add 'man' to the start of words to make them less awkward."

"I disagree." He shrugs.

"We have to stop this, don't we?" I asked. To which he nodded. "Saying goodbye is a bitch."

"I know." He sighed. The two of us are silent as we pack up the room, gathering our scattered supplies, Topher saying I could keep the marriage license. We leave the building together, getting into separate cabs to go to our separate hotels. Before we part, Topher hugs me tightly. s

"I'll call you when I get to LA." He says. Tears well up in my eyes as I chuckle sadly.

"Topher, I love you, so please don't." I mutter, tears falling down my face.

"El…" He mumbles, planting a kiss on top of my head. He smiles at me, sadly, and I reflect the gesture back. We go to our separate hotels. I lie down on the neat, single bed, and cry.