I wake up. I have a thumping headache which apparently blurs out most memories after dinner. I remember hastily making a token. I remember Tyke having a conversation about sleep or lack of it. I remember seeing the mentor. I remember...nothing more. But, granted, it makes some sense- I can't understand the fact why my pyjamas appear to have rolled into a pile by the side of my bed. I limp out my bed, still piecing together memories, and re-dress into to my pyjamas. A knock comes from the door and Tyke enters. He is still robed in golden pyjamas, but now he clutches a Pettit glass bottle.
"I feel bad about last night." He says. He lifts up an overturned chair then sits.
"Why? What happened?" I ask
"Right," he mummers to himself, as if it were obvious "The hangover."
"I was drunk?"
"Apparently so," he smiles slightly to himself. I catch his eyes with a curious, frustrated look and his face straightens. "And, please just keep in mind you came onto me first."
"You saying I kissed you?" The idea almost forces a chuckle out. Tyke pauses and bites down on his lip-hard. It looks like it hurts. I get a little shiver then everything makes sense- the clothes, the chair, his reluctancy to talk.
"You raped me?"
"Ah, no. You came onto me, remember?"
"I was drunk." I say
"But you made the decision consciously-"
"I was drunk." I repeat. Only now my teeth are gritting to stop them attacking him. He pauses
"Maybe so, but, I think you should know that I l-" I cut him short
"No!"
"I lo-"
"No! Stop it! Stop talking right now!"
"Why?"
"Because," I pause to think of a scenario "Imagine. We're in the arena. Your in agonising pain-you've been poisoned or stabbed badly-and I want to put you out your misery but I can't. All that would be going through my head is your stupid voice saying that phrase." He takes it in.
"Sounds like you've thought about it."
"Leave." I say. A little to hastily. He crosses his arms and stomps his feet as if to make a point
"Leave." I repeat
"Make me." He replies
"Leave!" I throw my arm at the door and Tyke bows his head in defeat. He places the Pettit glass bottle down on the chair.
"It's for your hangover." Then he leaves
