Levi's head throbbed, a dull, persistent ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart and reminded him of his reckless youth. Unfortunately, he was not as young as he used to be and it told on him. He groaned, his eyes fluttering open to reveal a world swimming in a hazy, distorted light. The remnants of the previous night's indulgence clung to him like a damp, heavy blanket. He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea washed over him, forcing him to sink back into the pillows.
"Ugh," he mumbled, his voice hoarse and scratchy. "What… what happened last night?"
"You happened," a voice replied, sharp and clear.
Levi's head snapped towards the sound, his eyes widening in surprise. Lyse stood by the window, her back to him, her silhouette framed by the morning sunlight. She was dressed in sweat pants and a hoodie.
"Lyse?" he croaked, his voice barely audible. "What are you doing here?"
