Hangover Quotes Chow Novels & Stories

"Have some carbs and water. You'll feel better in no time." I followed her advice eagerly, eager to wash away the lingering taste of the hangover elixir. Greta watched me in silence as I devoured three cookies, finally ridding my mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. I took a long swig of water and set the bottle down. "Thank you." "I was young once," she remarked. "I could hold my liquor, though. You'll need to work on that." I chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to be advising against drinking?"

I’d deal with all that later. I got dressed and headed out to meet Zach for lunch. I already knew what he would say. “Hey,” he said, waving to me from the bar where he was already drinking a beer. I purposely looked at my Rolex and then the beer. “Hair of the dog?” He chuckled. “Pretty much. I’ve already been out surfing with a killer hangover. The only thing that is going to make it better is beer and protein.” “You guys ready for a booth?” a pretty server asked.

he replied defiantly. “We both know that’s a lie. Look at you!” I gestured to him. “Have you even slept?” “No.” “And you’re not eating either. That’s not good for you,” I said. “I am eating,” he countered, holding up his mug triumphantly. “That’s not food.” “It’s my hangover cure.” “How? It’s making you drunk.” “That’s the point. It keeps the hangover at bay,” he shot back, smiling smugly. I rolled my eyes and pressed the toast to his lips again. “Eat!”

I said to him afterward, and he just nodded as for his response. We put food on their plate. Edward puts fried rice and bacon on Sava’s plate while I put vegetables and meat on Sevi's. We both gave them a glass of milk. “You should eat this, it may help you to decrease your hangover,” he said and put the rice with broth on my plate. This was like a broth soup. I taste some and the ginger taste overflowed and left on my tongue. He was probably right; my spinning head feels better. “Are you going to work today mommy?” Sava said while chewing.

And that was the best part of all this. "Eat up, asshole," Conan's voice broke my train of thought. I turned, squinting up at him like he was made of God's light and Satan's volume. "You sound like a parade in a fucking graveyard," I muttered, clutching my temples. "Good. You deserve to suffer you little bitch," Conan grinned, dropping a steaming bowl in front of me. "Now eat up. It's hangover soup." "Hangover what?" I blinked. Did he say that earlier?

I opened my mouth to speak but I was too overcome with emotions to speak anything. He handed me a glass of water. My face contorted with disgust and I complained, “ It is so bitter!” “ Drink it quietly. It will help you get over the hangover.” He commanded. I wanted to protest but the stern expression deterred me from saying anything and I drank up the water quietly. He was right. My headache dulled instantly. “ Wait! Did you say hangover?” I said, my brows furrowed in confusion. “ Don’t you remember anything?” He said raising his eyebrows.

Kennedy places a bottle of water in front of each of us. I bite into my bacon cheeseburger. I chew slowly to control my queasy stomach. The warm, salty burger with the soft melted cheese and sweet bar-b-que sauce is delicious. I unknowingly moan in pleasure. “Easy,” Jackson quietly teases. “It’s just a burger, not a man.” I ignore their giggles while crunching on some chips. The food is just what our hangovers need. I keep from moaning as I savor my next bite.

A hungover fool. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered to myself, reaching for the water on the nightstand. Chris had been kind enough to leave me some essentials to help with my hangover, including that cheeky little note. I couldn’t decide if I found it endearing or if it made this whole situation just that much more mortifying.

My mouth goes dry, it’s even more embarrassing pretending like nothing happened yesterday night and that I didn’t drunk-kiss him. He turns back to the stove, ladles something into a bowl and sets it on the counter in front of me. “Hangover soup.” He says simply. “It’ll help.” Of course he remembers. I hesitate before sliding onto the stool. The smell alone almost makes me cry, I take a sip. It’s warm and salty, just right. “Thanks.” I murmur, staring down at it. I gather enough courage to bring up what happened last night. “I’m...” My fingers tighten around the spoon as I inhale shakily. “I am sorry about last night.”

It's all a fucked up mess and I can't even judge or pry into this with him because I need to keep my secret to myself, and it's not fair for me to expose him when I'm clearly hiding the same thing. “Last night was for seniors only, that's why Olivia wasn't invited. My sister would have murdered me in my sleep if I invited Megan to our party,” he mumbled, stood up from the kitchen table, walked towards the fridge and pulled out two beers and slide one across the table to me. The cold liquid traveled down my throat and in seconds it felt like my headache was going away. That's the trick. Drink more alcohol when you are hungover. It helps in the morning.