Well, I wasn't going to turn the previous One-Shot into a full story, but apparently many people liked it, when showed in another place, then here you have, a continuation for that Sober Night. I hope you like it.
The Morning After
The fresh new rays of light entered the room from the far window on the left. The cream curtains were wide open and let the clear sun warm the bed. She opened her eyes slowly trying to adjust to the abusive glow all around. Her head rocked, like a million drums inside.
'Morning. Light. Head. Hurts.'
Beside the fact that her brain was already in full operating mode, her body felt like it had been hit by a running mob of angry elephants. Quite unlikely, living in the city… but still, every single muscle ached.
A white hand came to cover her blue eyes, which shone with sober moisture in the sunlight, and rubbed them forcefully until they could focus properly. Releasing a deep sigh, she tried to move and looked into the clock. Bright red numbers shown it was already past 8 in the morning. Too early for someone who has a headache the size of Texas, too late for an Anthropologist who has to work.
She forced her body up in the bed with resignation, every muscle complaining. Sliding her long legs to the side, and placing her feet on the floor, she made sure she still had all the movement ability functioning. Forcing herself up and to walk a few steps into the bathroom direction, turned out more difficult that what was expected. Another deep growl of ache came out. Movement ability close to zero.
A few minutes later she found herself leaning over the sink, trying patiently to wash her tired face with cold running water. Handfuls of water hit her cheeks, washing away the previous day events and a sleepless night all together, sending them down into the pipe.
Slowly, lifting her head, she allowed herself to see her reflection for the first time in that morning.
'Oh…' Was the only thought running over her mind in the moment.
The mirrored image of the woman was not of the confident doctor she used to be. Now, she was reduced to blood shot eyes with dark circles around them, ruffled curls of auburn hair and face as pale as the moon.
"Note to self…" She said tentatively, her voice still rough from drink and lack of sleep.
"Do not, ever, drink with Booth again." Her fingers brushed the curls in disarray.
"Specially, don't end up saying you love him..."
Brain synapses and all sort of body functions stopped. Breathing became difficult and her strong heart beat was the only sound filling the room, it roared like a thousand drums in her ears. Her eyes shot open to the mirrored image of her.
Panic pumped her veins instead of blood, and her actions froze in time.
"Oh my… What have I done?"
Enjoyed it so a far? Just wait for next chapter to know how Booth spent the rest of the night and how he's going to cope with his own hang over. Reviews are welcomed:)