Chapter Text
Lydia Beaufort
The heavy rain disrupts my dreams, the heavy arm on my hip pulls me back into reality.
I don't remember clearly how I ended up in the arms of Cyril Vega who, although a good friend of mine and admittedly outstandingly great in bed, I never quite liked in that way. I still don't. There must have been a mix of alcohol, my broken heart and the desperate need to feel loved and needed involved into making me wake up in his arms. What made him want to sleep with me? I have no idea. The only thing I know is that it is going to be extremely awkward between us from now on and I have to get out of here as fast as possible, preferably unnoticed.
The light snoring right beside me suggests that Cyril must still be asleep. I am pretty sure I saw him dunk at least two to three beer last night so this does not come to much of a surprise to me. As I try to slowly free myself of his arm I realize that my alcohol intake could not have been much less than his. I can barely suppress a groan threatening to escape me as I begin to move my body of off the soft mattress and a piercing pain shoots through my head. The stupid alcohol be dammed. I sit on the edge of the bed for a moment holding my head and trying to gather my thoughts. As the cool sensation of the marvel floor under my feet relieves me of some of my pain I gain the courage to dare a quick look behind me.
Cyril seems, thankfully, tight asleep. His body is almost completely covert in a blanket. Most of his face disappears into the lush pillow his head rests on. Despite that I can still see the relaxed nature of his features and the slight hint of a smile on his lips. A rare view. His goofy and carefree nature that sometimes borders on ignorance usually overshadows the soft guy that exists underneath the hard exterior. The amour he learnt to protect himself with, just like the rest of us.
The slight movement of his right arme, that was holding me mere minutes ago, catches my attention. He slowly outstretches his arm even further across the mattress while flexing his fingers almost as if he is trying to hold onto something. Seeing his hand on the mattress I can almost feel its heat on my skin. Not just on top of my hip where I found it when I woke up but also holding on to my body as he buried himself in me last night, whispering sweet nothings into my ears and on the trail his hands had traveled from my face down to my thighs as he worshiped my body the way his words promised he would.
I shiver at the afterthought of his hands on my body as I am finally able to divert my gaze from him. I scann the floor for my clothes wanting nothing more than to get out of here and forget about everything that happened. We must have been in quite the hurry yesterday because they are scattered across his whole room. And not just on the floor but on the furniture and even a lamp hanging from the ceiling too. I reluctantly pick my unusually heavy body up to gather my clothes as quietly and quickly as possible. After I finally found each item of clothing and put it on without Cyril waking up I slip out of the door giving him one last glance before closing it. A barely audible sigh leaves my mouth as I lean my head against the door closing my eyes for a moment.
What have I done? Why did I have to ruin this friendship just so that I could forget my sorrows for a few minutes? I am pretty sure the others must have noticed that I left the party with Cyril last night which means seeing them on Monday is not going to be pleasant. But what I am looking forward to the least is the knowing look of my brother and the annoying and totally unnecessary questions he is going to bombard me with as soon as I will arrive at home. With a heavy breath I open my eyes and push my self off the door, bracing myself for what is to come. At least Cyrils parents are out, as they always are, and it is still too early for any of the staff to arrive so I manage to leave the house unnoticed.
Since I don't want to call Percy because if he knows where I spent the night, my parents are gonna know it pretty soon too, which I want to avoid at all cost, I have to get home by foot. Thankfully it is not very far but with my hangover I could imagine better places to be. I just have to hope that my parents are still asleep or better yet, out of the house, once I arrive at home. I would really like to avoid a lecture on how irresponsible I am, despite James doing the exact same thing all the time, this early in the morning. And frankly, I know I fucked up by myself. I don't need my parents to tell me that.