There was a dimly glowing ember of consciousness left in him that made it seem like he had never actually gone to sleep at all. He was so hungover he thought he might be paralyzed. As sensation crept back into his leaden limbs, he almost wished he was. Everything was aching. God, what the hell had he even done last night?
He remembered driving? It was too patchy and indistinct. What he was doing barely constituted thinking. He resolved to get himself some water to soothe his dry and aching tongue.
Cassidy swung his legs over the bed, and realized as he set his feet down on Tahar's faux fur throw rug that he wasn't at home. As he reached for underwear far too big for him, it all came crashing back chased by an intense headache that lanced through his brain, and he remembered he had spent the night as Butch. Seeing his own skinny arm, he further realized that he returned to his usual form as he slept.
He remembered driving? It was too patchy and indistinct. What he was doing barely constituted thinking. He resolved to get himself some water to soothe his dry and aching tongue.
Cassidy swung his legs over the bed, and realized as he set his feet down on Tahar's faux fur throw rug that he wasn't at home. As he reached for underwear far too big for him, it all came crashing back chased by an intense headache that lanced through his brain, and he remembered he had spent the night as Butch. Seeing his own skinny arm, he further realized that he returned to his usual form as he slept.