Elara in My Clothes

Amara woke up to an intense pounding in her skull, as if someone was taking a hammer to her brain and gleefully beating it into submission. She groaned, turning her head slightly, only to feel something move in her arms.

Wait… what?

Her eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly against the bright sunlight filtering through her luxurious bedroom's massive windows. There, lying comfortably in her arms, was none other than Elara, blonde hair spilling across the pillows, her face calm and relaxed in the warm morning light.

Amara's brain short-circuited for a moment.

What in the ever-loving hell?

[Ah, good morning, drunkard. How's that hangover treating you?] The system's chipper voice rang in her head, clearly enjoying her misery.

Please, not now, Amara mentally grumbled.