What happens next?

Surprisingly, you are the last one to wake up. You had buried Delilah in blankets before wrapping yourself around her. Spooning the person you had just anally railed felt strangely right, even if they were drunk…

You blink a few times and rub your eyes, the sunlight was shining right into your face. Your head had a slight pounding sensation from all the drinks *YOU* had taken. As you got up, your senses returned. You smelled coffee in the air and heard groaning. After taking a quick scan of the living room, you spot Delilah wearing your shirt, hunched over her kitchen’s sink as coffee slowly pooled in its contents into the jar.

You got up and grabbed your underwear before walking over to her. “Hey there, Delilah.” You said quietly as you grabbed her waist.

“Heeey,” she groaned. “This headache is absolutely killing me today...”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I, uh, took you back.”

Delilah scoffs. “Yeah. You took me back alright. I’m so sore back there that it hurts to sit down even…”

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. “What do you mean?”

Delilah turns around, her complexion, a pale green, is twisted with disgust. “What do you mean’ what do you mean?’ I feel that it’s pretty clear.”

You continue to play dumb. “What happened last night? I can’t remember very much.”

Her brows furrow before her glance breaks. Her sickly cheeks start to bleed into a shade of pink. “N-never mind. I don’t remember much of anything either.” You can tell she’s lying, but don’t remark about it.

“We should go out again sometime,” You tell her. “Despite the outcome of last night, I’d like to go somewhere else with you.”

Delilah grabs a mug and pours herself some black coffee. “You must be more hungover than I am.”

“Hm?”

She gestures outside. “It’s snowing.”

It was still October and the weather has been pleasant all week long. “A little early for this, isn’t it?”

“Not here,” Delilah replies flatly. “It’ll probably melt the next week, but by then it’ll dampen my mood until spring.”

"So, what do you want to do then?" You ask her.

She leans against the counter. Her natural beauty is hidden somewhat by her hangover. She didn't usually doll herself up that much, but you're glad to know she's comfortable enough around you to be herself. She smiles at you when she notices your stare. "I'm not really good at picking group activities. What would you like to do?"