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A single ray of sun hit Lydia's face. She opened one eye and groaned: the light hurt. She rolled to the other side of the bed, hiding her head under a blanket. Wait. She usually slept under a duvet, and she didn't recognise the smell or the fabric of this blanket.
Lydia sat straight, and the world spun around her. She closed her eyes and waited for the vertigo to pass. In the meantime, she assessed the damage: her temples were pulsing, but not yet aching; she was thirsty as hell; her stomach felt funny. She was hungover. And, what was worse, she had no idea where she was.
Lydia opened her eyes again. No, she definitely didn't recognise this bedroom. It looked like any ordinary bedroom, maybe a little plain in the decorating department, except the bed was enormous. It was the most gigantic bed Lydia ever slept in, and she had no clue how she got there.
She remembered the beginning of the evening: a pub quiz in a place called Lighthouse. She went there alone, adamant to make some new acquaintances, now that she knew she was going to stay in Minrathous for longer. She had a little too much to drink: she should probably go and look for some water. And painkillers.
She got up and made a few tentative steps, but the view in the mirror caught her attention. She squinted, looking at herself: she wore nothing else, but a man's t-shirt, which was way too big for her. She had no recollection of how she changed from her clothes to this, and felt a sudden dread. She looked around, but she didn't see any of her belongings in the room.
She peeked outside the door: an ordinary-looking corridor leading to an ordinary-looking living room. And on the couch…
"Oh, good morning," the big Qunari she met the other night got up from the couch: it looked like he slept there. "I thought you'd sleep longer."
Lydia entered the living room, not letting the man out of her sight. She started remembering fragments of the night while he went to the kitchenette. The quiz her team won. Round of toasts. And then a second. He took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. She remembered him, with a disarming smile and a pair of gorgeous, mismatched eyes. A cheesy pickup line delivered playfully, one drink, talking, another drink, more talking.
"Here, this should help," he approached her, smiling, and put a glass in her hand. Lydia looked at the glass, then at him, at the glass again, and emptied it in almost one big gulp.
"What… Where am I?" Lydia put the glass on the table. "How did I get here? And you…?"
"Riley," Qunari sat down on the couch again. Yes, Riley, she remembered now. "You're at my place. I brought you here when the pub was closing. Your phone was dead, and the last thing I wanted was to leave you on the street drunk as a log."
"Thank you. I guess?" Lydia sat at the other end of the couch, and the memories of the previous night started coming back to her, especially when she realised she must've been wearing Riley's shirt. "Oh dear Maker, did we…?"
"No," Riley shook his head firmly. "Not that I didn't propose. But you were far too drunk when you decided to agree."
"I am…"
"Not that kind of girl, yes, you told me countless times yesterday," he smirked. Lydia groaned and buried her head in her hands.
***
"You look really, really stressed, you know?" Riley clinked his glass with hers once the bartender made their drinks. "You should chill a little. Let it go."
"I'm working on it," Lydia laughed and sipped on her negroni. "The past few months were stressful. And starting a new life in a new city is not the most relaxing of experiences."
"To the new beginnings, then!" he clinked their glasses again. "And, not to brag, but I know the city pretty well. So if you'd like a tour—"
"So, you're a tour guide?" Lydia interrupted. She tried to guess what her new friend did for a living, to no avail.
"No," he chuckled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, making her shiver. "But I know a place. Or two. Some more private than the others…"
"I'm not that kind of girl," she warned, but there was no heat behind her words. "But thank you for the offer."
"Well, the offer stands," Riley smiled, unfazed. "And I meant it: I know this city well."
***
"I made such a fool of myself," Lydia mumbled to her hands.
"Eh, not much," his voice was reassuring. "Believe me, you weren't even in the top five of most screwed patrons."
"But I completely don't remember coming here. And… changing," she tugged at the hem of the t-shirt.
"You were very adamant that you won't go to sleep in your dress," Riley was amused. "You gave me strict instructions on how to wash it. I think it should be dry now."
***
"Listen, angel, I took a liking to you, but I am not undressing you while you're in this state," Riley's voice was tired and a little mumbling.
"And I am not—" Lydia put her finger up, but the effect was spoiled by a sudden hiccup attack. "—sleeping in a dress and a bra."
"Alright, you know what? Turn around. Good. Put your hands up. Right, that's it," Riley instructed, and she obeyed. She was good at following instructions after all. "Now, I'll remove your dress and undo your bra without looking. And I'll put you in my shirt, alright? It's clean."
Lydia giggled.
***
"I'm so, so, so sorry," Lydia wished the ground swallowed her up. "I don't drink that much normally… Thank you for putting up with me."
"No worries," his smile was truly sincere. And as much as she was ashamed, Lydia was glad that from all the people she could've met that night, she came across someone decent. And cute. "Now, why don't you take a shower and I'll make some breakfast?"