Knock Knock.

Her eyes throbbed furiously behind her eyelids and a maddening buzz rang in her ears, making her want to just turn around and sleep until the world didn't seem so uncomfortable as it seemed at that moment. The blow to the door echoed inside her head, many times louder than any noise had the right to sound.

Knock Knock. Fuck.

Who the hell was trying to wake her up? She didn't have any roommates and normally nobody would visit her without letting her know in advance, much less in the morning. Despite herself, she opens her eyes and blinks a couple of times as the scenario sinks into her brain. Nope, that was most definitely not her room in Yale. It takes her a few moments to remember she was back in Ohio for Mr. Shue's wedding, obviously.

Yeah, all was right with the world… Until she tries to get up and feels something wrapped around her stomach, she looks down apprehensively – a tanned arm was draped around her waist, contrasting with her pale skin.

Fuck.

The knocking on the door, unanswered, was now pushing a cart filled with clean towels, sheets and travel size shampoos into the room. The blonde barely had time to pull the sheet up to her neck before the hotel maid got in and flashed a reproving look directly at her, not even bothering to feel embarrassed for the naked girl. The older woman blew an irritated puff of air before taking one last look and leaving – not before mumbling something incomprehensibly in Spanish, but Quinn had spent enough time with Santana to know that she wasn't exactly complimenting them.

Now fully awake, Quinn untangles herself from the brunette and looks at the clock. 11:42. And the other had not yet shown any signs of life, but that would be the least you could expect from hungover Santana. She goes after her clothes, scattered in odd places, it would probably be best if she left before the latina woke up, that'd be way too weird. After a few frustrating minutes trying to find her panties, she gives up. In a dark room looking for a little piece of cloth: lost cause.

She gets out of the room straightening her hair through her fingers, hopefully, she didn't look as shameful as she thought she did, but if her hair didn't gave her away, the guilt in her eyes and her crumpled dress – as if it had spent the night laying in the corner of a room – would be enough for any spectator.

All she had to do was go up two floors and into the safety of her own room. She jabs the button of the elevator that took twice the time that it normally would. The door opens with a clink, revealing the second jew she wanted to see the least at that moment: Puck. He gives her a knowing look and puts his lips together to whistle at the blonde.

"The wedding was a disaster, but I see someone got lucky last night, huh?" He says with a smug smile, making the girl's head throb.

"Oh, shut up, Noah." Just like that, she was not in the mood to argue with Puck, who just muffles a laugh, knowing better than to mess with a genuinely pissed Quinn Fabray.

Without any more unfortunate encounters, she gets to her room and goes straight to the bathroom; a good bath was in order. Already in the shower, she briefly takes stock of the night before. Drinking enough for a devastating hangover, check. Having a drunken hookup with her best friend, check. Going through the worst walk of shame ever, check. She chuckles to herself humorlessly. The way things were, she'd better check for a tramp stamp or something.

Fortunately, or maybe not, she wasn't the kind of drunk that forgot things after the alcohol left her system, unlike the passed out brunette two floors down. Quinn could remember every single detail of the night before… Some more vivid than others, she thought as she traced lightly the skin of her inner thighs that still felt kind of raw.

Before she could get lost in those feeling, her cellphone rings, but by the time Quinn is out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, whoever was calling had already given up, but left a text.

Brunch with the Gleeks at the deli across the street. Xoxo –Rachel

She would like to see how everyone was doing, but shuddered at the thought of meeting a certain Latina. She sighs and gets herself ready: a striped dress, ankle boots and her hair pinned up. She couldn't run away forever and there was a big chance the other girl didn't even have memories of last night. Quinn couldn't tell what would feel worse: having to go through all that alone or dealing with their awkward relationship afterwards.

XXX

A/N: Ok… A tiny, tiny chapter of my first fanfic ever, but I intend to update it shortly, just wanted to see how it goes; English is not my native language. Reviews will be highly appreciated. ;)