Stumbling towards the bedroom.

From Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season (CHAPTER 6: VALENTINE’S DAY MARTYRDOM)

Mr. Smyth and I walk inside. I toss the bouquet onto my coffee table. We look at each other in silence for a few moments.
     
And then, in typical drinking-all-night-and-picking-up-the guy-you’ve-been-drinking-with-all-night fashion, I grab hold of him, and we start making out hard and fast. Clumsily our hands fondle each other; clothes get unbuckled, unhooked, unbuttoned, and unzipped. We stumble toward the bedroom, then the bed, our lips furious and our hands adamant.
     
And then I pass out.
     
I wake up feeling my hangover. I turn my head and attempt to focus on my neglected alarm clock. Shit! I’m late.
     
I turn my head the other way. Shit! Mr. Smyth!
     
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