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It could have been easy to forget where she was, and who she was with. She convinced herself that she had, when her hands found Peyton willing. She convinced herself that whatever made her mind feel this foggy and heavy had also wiped clean the memories of the last couple of years, and possibly all memories entirely. All she knew was raw physical desires, leading her down the path they chose. She was less human in that moment than she'd ever been in her entire life, when she followed where the heat and lust took her. They showed her a willing body, responding to the twitch of her fingertips and failing to shy away from touches that could have gotten them kicked out, if the crowd hadn't been so thick, dense and willing to hide them.

But she didn't truly forget. She knew that the lips she bent down to capture were just the right kind of softness for the girl she'd brought to the club. She knew that the gentler curves receiving attention were from the same one that tried on her shirts and found them lacking. She remembered holding fake breasts up against her body, in her room. She clutched them now, real and petite and unable to pull away.

She knew exactly what she was doing now. But Peyton, she figured, did not. Where that would have made a better person pull away, Maebe's tongue just dove deeper, and her body nestled in to grind against Peyton's without subtlety. And she gave in to that easy, tempting feeling that allowed her to make believe she was just reacting on instinct every step of the way.

She couldn't be assed to know what time it was when the fog cleared and her mind came back to her. She knew she was lying down on something soft - a bed, definitely a bed, but no pillow. Her eyes wanted to open but no, too soon, way too soon. So she pressed down on them and felt the thumping pain throb through her head, loud and overwhelming. She groaned, but she couldn't even hear it past the sound of her own blood rushing. So she rolled over in an attempt to find some relief, and all she found was the familiar softness of a warm body next to her. She could have enjoyed it, if she didn't want to rip her own head off and burn it so badly.

Maebe had never experienced a hangover of this intensity, because it wasn't just an alcoholic hangover, and she was paying the price of substance indiscretion. She curled her entire body around the one beside her, burying her face in the soft hair that smelled so sweet. She rubbed her face against it, and the rest of her body followed in suit, running hands down the length of soft, slender curves and then wrapping herself around it. A warm body was a warm comfort, despite the critical levels of pain she endured in every inch of her brain.

"Tell me about it." Maebe's rough, gravelly voice managed a weak chuckle as she pulled the covers back over both her own, and Peyton's head. "I'd get up and make a hangover cure, but that would require moving, and I would die." She was barely whispering, and yet now she could hear her voice and it sounded too loud, too painful. So she stopped talking, and silently considered texting Cami to make her some hangover cure.

But she had another woman in her bed, and suddenly that didn't sound like the best idea. Cami had told her in no uncertain terms that monogamy wasn't a necessary feature of a relationship, but this was still an unhealthy choice - even hungover as she was, Maebe admitted that to herself in amusement. Peyton was Otto's cousin. She tried not to snicker.

"There is one other way to cure a hangover." She finally whispered, her hands sliding down Peyton's thighs, and then curving inward. "If you want it."