David Nassau could have easily accepted death over the current throbbing in his head. Very easily.
He wasn't sure what ungodly hour of the morning it was and he didn't particularly care. A quick peek from under the grateful darkness of his blanket and over to the window had confirmed it to be sometime in the late morning. He really didn't need to know much more than that.
A particularly sharp throb of his head caused him to give a soft groan of discomfort before he buried his blonde head even further into his pillow. No, he did not feel like getting up at all.
Besides, life was ever so much easier to think about when he was by himself and couldn't see the rest of the world around him. Certainly life needed to be thought about at this point so he might as well make good use of the time. First up on the menu of food for thought: Rush.
Just thinking about the boy caused a small smile to play across the Marquis full lips and he briefly considered getting out of bed long enough to order a guard to fetch the boy to his room. Rush would make him feel better, make his aching head subside. He was debating emerging from his self-induced world of darkness when he heard someone enter the room.
"I think you've had enough sleep for one day, Lord David. Perhaps you should consider getting up now?" The Marquis groaned as the words, though spoken in the calm and deadpan voice that could only belong to Emma, sent another series of stabbing pains through his poor skull.
"...I think I will remain in bed today, Emma. I'm not feeling my best and I would hate to pass it on to anyone else." He replied and she had to strain to hear his words they were so muffled from underneath the blanket. Once she had pieced together his response the snorted in amusement.
"Hangovers aren't catching, David. The world will survive. Now get up!" She kicked the side of the bed lightly and was mildly amused to see his huddled figure flinch at the sudden movement it caused. No reply or movement came from him for a moment before the cover was pulled aside enough for a mop of messy blonde hair and a pair of brilliant blue eyes to glare at her from the darkness.
"How did you know?" He demanded. He wasn't exactly impressed with his own comportment from last night and hardly wanted Emma to know about it as well. Rush was to blame for all this. David would be sure to collect compensation from him at a later date when his head didn't feel like it was about to explode.
"I know everything." She retorted smoothly before yanking the cover away from him and stepping out grabbing range. "Besides, who do you think actually got you back to your room last night? Rush? I doubt he had any more sense of direction then you last night."
Even his aching head couldn't stop him from blinking slowly at her, poker face well in place. He actually couldn't remember how he had gotten back from Rush's room last night. His last sensible memory was of a very messy good night kiss at his Commander's bedroom door before he had stumbled into the hallway.
"Well...thank you, Emma." He said finally and inclined his head in her direction, forgetting that he was indeed hungover. He wasn't forgetful for long though as more pain snapped through him. Turning his face back into his pillows he sighed with aggravation. He heard a matching sigh come from his General and he felt the sudden need to defend himself. "I didn't plan on consuming so much, you know. It just...happened." Splendid explanation, it would seem Rush's bad habit of speaking when words did no good was rubbing off on him.
He really hadn't meant to drink so much though. In fact, he hadn't planned to drink at all. He had been headed back to his room with the intention of reading the most recent reports on Athlum's security. When Rush has accosted him in the hall, a bottle of vodka in one hand and two glasses in the other, he had agreed simply because he had wanted to spend some alone time with his not-quite-lover.
Forgetting that he had a mildly pissed off general watching him, David actually grinned at that last thought. He had perhaps failed in his goal to remain unintoxicated but the alone time had turned out to be rather satisfactory.
Vodka tasted better when it had been in Rush's mouth first.
That was probably why he had consumed so much of it in the first place.
He really could blame it on the other boy then.
"You are lucky to have me, Lord David." His world was once again consumed by darkness as the cover was thrown back over him. He heard her make her way over to the adjoining washroom, mumbling things under her breath the entire way. The water was turned on briefly and then she was back by his bedside, still mumbling. "Here."
He surfaced from his refuge to have a glass of water shoved in his face along with a medicine tablet of some sort. He took both, careful not to move to quickly, and gave her a questioning look.
"Don't ask. It will make you feel better." She shook her head reproachfully as he swallowed the medicine obediently. "Honestly David, did you forget your senses last night? I found you stumbling around the halls like some Town Square drunk during the Winter Festival."
Well that explained how she had found him though it did leave one other question unanswered. "How did you know I was with Rush?"
"It would seem that whenever you do something irresponsible or childish you are in his company. I simply applied the rule to the case." Came the acid reply and David ducked his head in guilt. It really hadn't been a terribly intelligent thing to do.
Raising himself up on his elbows he turned to apologise once more only to see that she had already made her way to the door. "Where are you going?"
"I imagine I'm off to make your excuses to the various people you were supposed to be meeting today. I suppose I'll tell them that you became ill suddenly and offer your sincerest apologies." She answered without turning to look back at him. One slender hand twisted the doorknob and opened the door before she continued. "Then I'll make my way over to Rush's room and find your shirt which is no doubt buried in there someplace." She stepped out into the hall and turned to face him, a mixture of knowing exasperation and disapproval in her eyes. "You do seem to have a bad habit of losing your clothing when you're around him, my Lord. Try and be more careful."
And then she closed the door leaving a horrified David staring stupidly in her direction. With something between a wail and scream he flopped himself back into his pillows face-first.
And was promptly reminded of his Marshall-damned hangover.