The only sound to be heard in Will's big new house over the still roaring, magically-powered fireplace in the living room was his snoring.

Will blinked his eyes open and focused on the ceiling. Ugh' why is the bed so hard" He turned his head to look into the fire. That's because this is the living room' and the floor.

Will looked to his right hand, still holding an empty whiskey bottle. His head rolled left towards the other hand, which rested inside a small bag. He picked it up and held it close to his face. Oh yeah, that little elf guy gave me this stuff. He pulled out the contents one by one and dropped them in a pile above his head. Empty candy wrappers" an empty bag of Instant Snow" Must be why your shirt's all wet. He tossed the bag aside and finally sat up with a groan.

Between Will's bare feet sat a snow globe. He picked it up and shook it. Inside it, an image came into focus of a beach. A man and a woman were sitting in the sand with their feet in the water. Will turned it to get a better look at them.

They were the stuff of travel brochures. He was younger, fit, tanned and clean-shaven, with hair down past his shoulders. She was petite, her hair cut shoulder-length. The two were smiling and having a spirited conversation. She held his full attention with her bright blue eyes.

It was a simple scene, but then Will had always tried to enjoy the little things in life. He smiled. Moments like those, with her" it was as if there was nothing else in the world. Just us. Like it would never end. He watched the two for a few minutes.

But it did. Will sighed and stood up off the floor. He set the snowglobe on the counter as he shuffled into the kitchen, stopping at the fridge. He opened the door" it was empty, except for a note on the top shelf. He unfolded it and read it out loud to himself.

"New years resolutions" Go out for breakfast. Go to store. Duel more. Be more social. Throw a party. Get a life" He tossed it back into the fridge and shut the door.

"You don't ask for much, do you?"

The afternoon sunlight cut through the guest bedroom of her sister's apartment, lashing over her closed lids and set her vision ablaze with bright kaleidoscopic color. It might've been beautiful....were it not for the splitting headache that the sun riled from her dehydrated and alcohol soaked brain. A soft, whining groan spilled from her lips, pale brows furrowing as she turned her head this way and that as if that action alone would make the sun shy away from her eyes.

Unfortunately, that simple action of turning her head had her stomach churning with vertigo induced nausea. Eyes snapped wide as her hand clamped over her mouth and you'd think someone lit a fire under her ass as she fought and scrambled out of the blankets and was nearly sprinting to the bathroom. Slapping open the bathroom door with her palm, she made it to the porcelain throne in just enough time to spill last night's mistakes into the bowl.

After spilling every ounce of the interior of her stomach, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and rested her forehead against the seat with her eyes closed. "Fuck. Me." The stench of her efforts had her scrunching her face and she slapped a hand up to flush it all away. When the moment to recuperate was over, she pushed herself to her feet and washed her mouth out in the sink, rinsing and spitting it a few times over. Looking into the mirror, well you'd think Medusa came back from the dead. Her eyes widened faintly, brows rising as she took a step back from the mirror and raised a hand as if to shun it. "Oh, no. No. No, no, no. Don't need none of that.." Shaking her head, she abandoned that sight in the bathroom.

Standing in the living room, her eyes scanned the complex. Sofiya wasn't home, but she didn't expect her to be. She did say she had to work today. The thought had her rolling her eyes, wincing at the pain that shot through her skull with the motion, raising her hands to rub her temples.

Back to the bedroom, her Mediterranean blue eyes fell on the nightstand beside the bed, a soft smile that couldn't be stopped at the sight of two Tylenol and a bottle of water resting there for her. As well as her phone. Legs-for-days carried her to that stand, collecting the pills between her fingers and popping them in her mouth, she twisted off the cap to the water and chased them down. Plopping down on the edge of the bed, she poked and prodded the screen of her phone to check her messages, all the while swallowing down as much water as her nauseated stomach would allow her to.

There were two texts from Sofiya, sent early this morning. Likely, after she'd left for work.



Text From Workaholic's Anonymous: Hey, Hangover Bunny. Tylenol and water, rehydrate yourself.



"Working on it," she muttered to herself, swallowing her words with another swig of water. The next text had her almost choking on the water with laughter.



Text From Workaholic's Anonymous: By the way, the awkward taste in your mouth is probably the stranger you made out with last night. Listerine is in the bathroom. See you when I get home. xoxo



Laughter that held a touch of a rasp from this morning's puking session and last night's over shot of drinking spilled through the room. Abandoning the cap from the water bottle on the night stand, she picked up her phone and thumbed at the screen with a smirk on her face.



Text to Workaholic's Anonymous: The awkward taste in my mouth is the relapse of champagne I destroyed your toilet with. Noted on the Listerine, though. Even though the color makes me wanna puke all over again. Thnx for the pills and h20. See you when you get home. Round 2?



The swooping sound of the text being sent was followed by the crunching of the empty water bottle in her hand as she squished it with the last swallow. Her tongue rolled over the roof of her mouth, the lingering taste of the Cerulean Champagne she'd had at EgoTrip's Grand Opening didn't taste so good coming back up. Girl needed a shower. Stat.

Though maybe the Listerine might be a good idea, regardless.