Rachael (commonanomaly) wrote in thecronies,
Rachael
commonanomaly
thecronies

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Hangovers and good friends


Date- August 26, 2003
Time- 2:49pm
Subject- Pieter nurses a hungover Claudia back to health


There is a horrible racket reverberating through the room. It's the frantic clanging and ringing and booming of a marching band gone berserk. Claudia groans pitifully and strives to make sense of the madness. It takes her much longer than it should to realize that the marching band is in her head and that she's not hanging upside down and being brutally beaten. No, her situation is much worse than that, she decides. She is experiencing the mother of all hangovers and it feels like death.

She is not ready to open her eyes and face the situation so she buries her pounding head in her pillow for a while, whimpering like a puppy. She begins to realize that she is on the floor and that Pieter must be on the bed sleeping peacefully and without the searing pain in his stupid, not hungover head. She realizes that her mouth is sticky and her tongue thick and her throat dry. Water. Water would be good. Not good, perfect... She moans longingly. If she could just get Pieters attention.

Still not daring to open her eyes, she moans a little louder and then finally manages a slurred "Pieter!"

It sounds like "Fee-er!"

The sound seems to echo painfully in her head so she opts for silence for the time being. It seems that there are noises far off that she cannot account for. Her fevered mind is trying to place these alien sounds when the smell of bacon suddenly assaults her. She hears her door creak open and then a tentative voice says "Claudia?"

It's Pieter, her savior.

"Water!" She cries.

It sounds like "Waaaar!"

She braves a peek at him and finds him leaning casually in the doorway with a tray balanced on one hand. He looks quite pleased with himself.

"I brought you some water, and some eggs, bacon and toast as well." He says proudly, crossing the room and setting the tray down lightly next to one of Claudias limp hands.

Claudia drags herself up and takes a few drinks of water before collapsing back onto the floor. The smell of eggs is sickening. And the bacon, the fragrant, greasy bacon... Claudia retches and clamps her hand over her mouth.

"Oh, come on. Eat a little and I promise you'll feel better. I couldn't find any butter in your fridge so I put some honey on the toast. Try it, it looks delicious!" Pieter urges, nudging the tray a little closer to her and smiling sweetly.

He is disgustingly chipper, Claudia thinks.

"Die." She growls.

"That's not nice." Pieter scolds.

"I'm not... feel... nice..." Her voice trails off and her eyelids droop.

Some time passes and when Claudia opens her eyes again Pieter is eating eggs and toast with obvious relish. "See, delicious!" he says when he sees her watching him. A piece of egg flies out of his mouth and lands on the floor near her hand and she watches it with the detached fascination of one in the grip of fading delirium.

"What happened last night?" She says finally.

"Well, you started off nicely enough, putting on a sock puppet show for me and making me drinks. Then you drank my drinks and starting talking about sad things." He replies, crinkling up his nose a little as he says 'sad things'.

"What? Sad things? I - oh. Oh..."

"It's all coming back to you now, is it?"

"Ooooh, Pieter, why'd you let me drink so much?" Claudia murmurs, hands on her face.

"Hey, I warned you. I believe I said something along the lines of 'Thou dost ask for trouble by consuming such filthy ale!'"

"Actually, I think you said something more like 'Drink up me hearty, yo ho!' and then you proceeded to call me a rascal, a scoundrel, a villain, and a knave, among other things."

Pieter grins pleasantly at this. Guilty as sin and a horrible influence on me, Claudia thinks.

"I'm sorry you're sick but it'll be ok. We'll do something fun today to make up for it." He says.

"Like sleep?" Claudia asks hopefully.

"No, like clean up the vomit by the toilet and the mess of glass and pickles on the floor in the kitchen that a certain madwoman made when she decided that juggling is easier to learn while drunk."

"Oh god no." Claudia says, going a little paler, which is saying a lot because she already looks ghostly.

"Oh god yes."

"Oh god..."

"Yes, but being the fantastic, generous, and caring friend that I am I took the liberty of tidying up for you. Don't worry, you've escaped the morning after cleansing this time around but watch out, next time you may not be so lucky." He finishes, patting her softly on the shoulder.

"Pieter, you are the greatest. No, really, you are!" Claudia gushes. She watches Pieter as he leans back against the bed, no doubt reveling in his decision to not drink the night before, and she is filled with a sudden warmth. There is a feeling in her other than nausea and the pain of her splitting headache. A peaceful feeling.

She feels loved.

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