Sunday
. Is it something I've tasted?___
Rachel's POV
"Shit!" I muttered as I sat up abruptly, the room spinning as my lids flashed open. Craddling my head in my palm for some seconds, I raised it and peered at my surrounding to note I was in the living room, a brown blanket that no doubt from the scent belonged to Lorenzo over my legs.
Smiling at the thick material, my vision snapped up as a thought entered my head, 'it's Sunday.' At that my irises hastily searched the wall for the grandfather clock and groaned as I noted the time.
"Uhhh, I thought I could meet up," I moaned in defeat and slumped back to a lying position, my sight trained on the ceiling.
Slithering like a sack of potatoes, I slid down the plush leather of the blue couch I was on till I got to a kneeling position. Clamping my palms together, I shut my lids and did the sign of the cross.