Novel & Cerita Nothing Goes Over My Head

I woke up to a searing pain in the back of my head. I couldn't even open my eyes. Shit! I have never felt this bad even when I was in college. I always limit my drinks when I am at a party except when I'm with Lisa. But even with my best friend, I hadn't felt this hung over. The whiskeys were very potent and I was an idiot for falling head-first into the trap laid out for me. I put both of my hands over my head. I heard someone closing on me. I couldn't even open my eyes and see who that was.

would have been acceptable as they were common. But not Simz ! Am I overthinking things ? Shit, I guess I am. My head fucking hurts a lot now. I really need to start meditating again. I AM NOT A WEAK HEADED ALPHA WOLF !!!! Grrrrr.

"What I said last night was just my anger talking, so don't take it seriously. You developed this project yourself. We really can't do this without you." I scoffed. It didn't take long for her to regret what she had done.

Something that felt like a sack came over my head and I thought. “Not again!”

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ I hate being hungover. My head pounded like a sledgehammer against my skull. I never let myself drink enough to get to this point—always kept it in check—but this was next level. Something was off. Wait. I never drank. I didn’t drink anything last night, did I?

I have feelings, they can't do this to me. Aaaahhh... They're trying to get under my skin, but this time I'll stay calm, all because of the headache that has come back to me. My goodness, that man must have seen the hangover I'm carrying. I don't think he can smell any alcohol on me, since I did more than just a vocal rinse. Hmmm... I'm done with my beautiful and handsome Harry. Being the good girl that I am, I nod and don't say another word as I take the first step to leave the ogre's office.

he dramatically said I just rolled my eyes, he is so over reacting “don’t worry North, if you slip or fall I will catch you”

??? I whine and shake my head instead, my gaze falling to the floor and my shoulders hunching toward my ears as if preparing for a blow. A pained expression crosses his face, but he quickly wipes it away and makes a soft, soothing sound. “It's okay. It’s not a big deal. We’ll figure it out.” Relief washes over me, and I stop trying to shove through the fog in my head. All I’m doing is giving myself a headache anyway.

I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again

POV Alexander Harold’s words have been bouncing around my skull like a fucking pinball machine all night: *No wife, no legacy.* The phrase keeps ricocheting through my consciousness with the persistence of a bad jingle or the kind of corporate slogan that gets hammered into your brain during hostile takeover negotiations. I’ve tried everything to shut it up. Scotch—the expensive kind that’s supposed to make existential crises more palatable. A cold shower that felt more like self-inflicted hypothermia. Staring at financial reports until my eyes bled and the numbers started looking like abstract art painted by someone having a nervous breakdown.