Out The Window

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

Isaiah could feel his head pounding behind his eyes, they were tightly shut and he was breathing deeply through his nose. What day was it? He’d gotten two weeks off from work, a little bit of annual leave and in the latter half of the two weeks he had his brothers’ graduation, but the first half would allow him to be wild and in his case this meant drinking himself silly for a few days. He could imagine that this was now Saturday, if his internal clock was anything to go by it felt like a Saturday. He was still a little drunk, could feel the impending hang over and certainly he wasn’t sure where he was. The feel of the sheets beneath him were foreign, they weren’t his ones. He cracked an eye open and glanced around at a very put together room, it seemed a little odd, too clean and put together. His clothes were strewn about the place and his wand lay on the bedside table with a cup of something clear. Maybe it was water, it looked like water. As if he suddenly realised how parched he was he sat up and reached over about to take sip when upon bringing the drink close to his nose realised it was probably more vodka than water. It was however in doing this action, that isaiah noted a second set of clothes, clothes that were definitely not his.

At the very least this helped answer the why he wasn’t in his own bed. He had gone home with someone. Isaiah wracked his brain for what had happened. He’d gotten to the club with some work friends, they’d been on a pub crawl, started drinking too early in the day. Isaiah had broken off from them when someone had drawn his attention. They’d danced and talked but the details of how they’d danced or what they’d talked about were completely gone. He didn’t remember getting to this room, or what the person looked like, or even what gender they were/identified as. He couldn’t spot them in the room, but he knew he needed to leave pronto. His still slightly drunken mind helped him push through the rising nausea and he rolled out of the bed. He put clothes on where he found them, trousers rushed on, the shirt dirtied, but at least the right way round. His legs ached a little and he was certainly unsteady on his feet as he grabbed his socks and his shoes. The man barely remembered to grab his wand and then tried to head out the window, the door seemed too risky, he didn’t want to run into them on his sneaking out.
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[Amoretta Macksimov]

Regardless of festivities and how late Amoretta managed to stay up, the disciplined dancer was an early riser. Even if that meant rising with a small hangover. The blonde groaned quietly and looked over to Isaiah, the man whom she'd romanced with the previous night. At least he was still attractive whilst she was sober. Finally standing from her simple bed the young Macksimov made her way to the closet to get clothing on and perhaps start a little breakfast for her guest. One night stand or not it wasn't like she couldn't be a decent host. The Veela spent around twenty minutes preparing the dishes using magic as an assist, music quietly playing in the kitchen as she did so, not so loud that it might wake up her guest. Thinking that if her migraine was as raging as it was, his was most likely the same, Amoretta grabbed a potion and headed back into the bedroom in time to see Isaiah trying to climb out the window.

With hands on her now clothed form Amoretta cocked her head to the side. "You know you can go out the window just fine if you have wings I didn't see. I live on the sixth floor." She remarked, before offering the potion to him. "Do you remember anything from last night or can I make up a fake identity and get away with it?" She asked, a playful smile on her slight features, tan skin splitting to reveal Veela charm

 

[Isaiah Jeffreys]

The voice which spoke was vaguely familiar and he knew this was who he’d spent the night with. At the very least it helped him realise that it had been a she, and it did cause him to look down and see that he was indeed a few floors up. He hadn’t even thought to look down, just dead set on walking out on this woman and not running into them, well, her. The man grinned a little sheepishly, a little drunkenly at her, she was definitely beautiful, he could instantly see why he had decided to flirt and end up sleeping with her. She was enticing and she the playful smile was definitely attractive to him, but he had been in the process of leaving, and by the window no less, so it certainly put the man in a slightly more awkward position. He gave her a little shrug, ”Not much honestly,” the man admitted, ”Still a little drunk too,” he added with a little chuckle, though this did nothing for his headache. He came back in from being half out the window and smiled at her. He couldn’t be sure of her name, it was something odd, something he hadn’t he, like the drink amaretto. Was it something close to that. So despite the fact that they had just been fairly intimate, the unspeakable plastered his most genuine and hopefully least drunken smile.

The brief motion of doing this did nothing to help how sick he felt, in fact staying as up right and motionless as he was wasn’t helping, ”God, I’m sorry, where’s your bathroom?” the man asked, he didn’t know if he would be sick but he didn’t want to just be sick all over the floor. Even if they were both magical - since they’d met in a magical bar - he didn’t want to have to do that with someone he had just met and whose name was definitely not coming to him not, he was a mess right now, that was pretty damn clear. ”I’m Isaiah by the way, I don’t know how much you remember about last night, but unfortunately your name isn’t something I remember,” he had a bright expression, someone that was clearly still a little drunk, the mess of the nights before on his features, but a charming and friendly smile nonetheless. He felt no shame for the bender he’d been on though he would feel ashamed if he did throw up on this woman’s floor.
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