[ should is accurate, but that doesn't mean daisy wants to do it. the bed is comfortable, the sheets cool against her legs, the pillows full and plush beneath her head. getting up is sure to be less enjoyable.
but the longer she lays here, the more her memory begins to slot together the puzzle pieces of how and when and why she's in this bed to begin with. like the realization of who is on the other side of the bed, the memory of how she wound up in this hotel in the first place... right. cool.
no wonder his head was killing him. he'd been real drunk. ]
Yeah, I bet. [ she finally drags herself upright, if not out of bed completely; the sheets pool at her waist, but daisy doesn't bother to cover herself. he's seen it now, hasn't he? what's the point? ] I could go for hashbrowns, to be honest.
no subject
but the longer she lays here, the more her memory begins to slot together the puzzle pieces of how and when and why she's in this bed to begin with. like the realization of who is on the other side of the bed, the memory of how she wound up in this hotel in the first place... right. cool.
no wonder his head was killing him. he'd been real drunk. ]
Yeah, I bet. [ she finally drags herself upright, if not out of bed completely; the sheets pool at her waist, but daisy doesn't bother to cover herself. he's seen it now, hasn't he? what's the point? ] I could go for hashbrowns, to be honest.
[ the perfect hangover cure-all. ]