Her head is pounding. There's a torturous ache within her bones and a delay to her mind's processing speed that makes her move sluggishly, inefficiently. Her breath reeks of bad choices.
When she finally, painstakingly, makes her way downstairs, she's surprised to see that Jack's already awake and in the middle of breakfasting.
"Morning," he greets, mouth full of half-chewed bacon. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please," she mumbles, darting to the pot and pouring herself a steaming mug of strong black coffee. The scent is divine. Staring blankly out the window, she lets the caffeine slowly enter her bloodstream, dulling the pain in her skull and awakening her senses bit by bit.
"So…" Jack has his lips pressed against his own mug and his eyes remain on his plate, where he stirs food around with a fork. "Fun night, huh? Should totally do it again," he says, sarcasm dripping from his lips like venom.
"Sure…" In all honesty, Elsa's memories of the night before are hazy at best, but something in the back of her mind still makes her blush. She remembers downing too many shots and mixing too many liquors and singing Bon Jovi songs, and then concrete changed into gravel under her feet and there's the eerie sensation of cool water surrounding her, too scrumptious to be real—Heaven's sake, did she… take off her shoes and dip her toes inside a goddamn water fountain? Or did she dream that part? As well as the part with those eyes, huge like the moon, gleaming in the dark, pulling her in like a pair of magnets and almost swallowing her whole? "Truth be told, I don't remember that much about it."
"Probably for the best." He shrugs.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He sets his fork down and carefully raises his eyes to meet hers. "What do you remember?"
She swallows, sudden dread seeping into her bones. "Did we… karaoke?"
"And that's the tame part of the night."
She pinches the bridge of her nose and groans, "Terrific…"
His smile at her is sheepish. "You're a surprisingly good singer if it makes you feel any better."
"It doesn't," Elsa grumbles through gritted teeth. She breathes a lungful of air in, trying not to feel overwhelmed. "What else?"
"You tried to go skinny-dipping."
"WHAT?" Her head spins so fast it makes her dizzy. Elsa groans, pressing a palm against the side of her skull and shutting her eyes with all her might. The light hurts her brain. Everything hurts her brain.
"I'm joking," he laughs. "You just pirouetted around in gross-ass stale water for a while. Really fulfilled your Nutcracker childhood dreams there. Maybe contracted a few diseases—cholera, E. coli, tetanus, the works."
"Of course..." Something tightens uncomfortably in her chest. An unease that makes her knees lose strength and her vision to darken around the edges. She holds herself on the cool sink slab. "Anything else I should be aware of?"
"That's about the gist of it."
"Oh."
"Yep."
"Then I must tell you that as fun as last night probably was, I don't think I'll be looking for a repeat any time soon."
He chuckles to himself, a forlorn look in his eyes. He chugs down the rest of his coffee, then brushes past her to get a refill. When he turns around, there's stiffness in his shoulders, an eerie distance in his gaze, a cold indifference as if a part of him is miles away from that kitchen. And then, as soon as it appears, it's gone, and Jack's usual playful smirk is on, making her wonder whether she hasn't just imagined that wrongness in his expression after all.
"For the first time, lady," he says between sips, "I think I have to agree with you there."