Her head felt like it was going to explode, and her throat wasn't faring any better. She blinked open her heavy eyelids, staring blankly across the table in front of her. Given that her line of sight was at this angle, it seemed she was lying on someone's lap.
A gentle wisp of a touch landed on her ear. The warm hand swept back her stray hairs before it pinched her cheek.
"It wasn't that bad… for a very, very strong cup of brandy," she said sheepishly.
Claude snorted. "I'm sensing a pattern here. I didn't think I had to worry about a potential alcoholic."
"I can see why people drink when they're frustrated or upset," she sighed out.
"What you drank was really strong alcohol," he chided. "It isn't meant to be downed in one go."
No wonder I feel absolutely terrible.
Lia felt like her insides were in turmoil. This was unlike any hangover she'd experienced to date. Claude cracked the window slightly open, filling the small cabin with fresh, cool air.