The sun streamed into the room and onto Aurelie's face. It did not take long for her to realise that she was on the floor, huddled against a warm body — a body that was trying to gently extract itself from her cuddle. She sat up straight and looked at the man beside her.
Nicolas was looking at her with bloodshot eyes on a face that looked a little green.
"Are you okay?" she asked him, and then said, "You don't look too good."
He gave her a weak smile and said, "I feel like death is knocking on my door."
That's what you get for getting that drunk, she thought, but kept a sympathetic expression on her face.
"I'll make you something to eat," Aurelie said to him.
She had never seen that particular green hue on a living, breathing person before.
"I don't think I can stomach anything right now," he told her weakly.
She felt pity stir in her heart.
"It's alright," Aurelie said to him as she watched him stagger to his feet. "Just go wash up, and we'll see how you're feeling after."
