Too bright.

The room was simply just too bright.

He pried his left arm out from where it was pinned under his stomach and waved his hand in the general direction of the blinds.

Except his hand dropped onto a large expanse of sheets and mattress.

What?

He always slept on the left side of the bed.

Always!

His pillow was on the left side of the bed.

The pillow on the other side was mostly just for show as it was a lumpy, horrible insult to the pillow name.

And, judging from the crick in his neck, he'd slept on it all night.

I'm loosing my mind.

No.

There was a logical explanation for this.

He was certain of it.

He must have piled something on the side of the bed after coming home from the party last night and been too tired to move it.

Speaking of the party….

Why couldn't he remember anything after the poker game?

Had it turned into a strip poker game?

He groaned and pulled himself upwards.

Someone was standing in his doorway.

A naked someone was standing in his doorway.

What the hell happened last night?

"What are you doing in my house? And…and why are you naked?"

A sudden breeze around the lower region of his anatomy drew his attention downward.

"And why am I naked?"

OOOOOOOO

Psuedo request from Kiterie for the other side of 11. Memory. Again, who's who in these two stories is up to the reader - I know who I have in mind, but it's not at all set in stone and can be read either way.

Thanks for reading!