Her head felt light enough to float away. 

It was one hell of a hangover. Her limbs felt like lead, and was disgustingly dry, filled with the aftertaste of strong alcohol and sloppy, drunken kisses. The sunlight streaming through the open windows of her hotel room was prickling her skin, electricity heating her through the sheets someone had drawn over her body. It was too hot, too uncomfortable despite the thinness of the covers and the absence of another's body heat.

She was feeling less and less like opening her eyes and getting out of bed to even draw the curtains as she realised she was alone. This was a morning she had experienced more times than she’d care to admit, and it was a scene that was becoming all too familiar to her. As the sunlight streaked almost gleefully across the pillows to sit heavily on her eyelids and warm the empty space beside her, Jessica felt vaguely bereft.

“Jessi.”

Insistent and familiar. The voice was gentle, the volume considerably low for the speaker, but still far too loud. Jessica’s head was aching.

“Go away, Steph.” The words scraped their way out of , and she winced, wishing she had some water to soothe the burn. 

“Wake up, Jessi.”

“No.” She buried her face deeper into the smooth pillows. The covers were covered with the scent of expensive cologne and Jessica breathed in deeply.

“Jessi. It’s late.”

“Ugh.”

“C’mon, sleeping beauty.”

Jessica acquiesced because, one, she knew it was probably somewhere past noon, and second, Tiffany would never leave her alone until she at least opened her eyes. 

“Hello,” she grumbled.

“Hello.” Too cheerful. Jessica wondered rather incoherently how it was possible for someone to be so upbeat in the morning. “It’s time for lunch, in case you were wondering.”

“Right.” Alright, afternoon happiness wasn’t that hard to comprehend. Jessica cleared . “My throat’s killing me.”

There was a moment when Tiffany’s smile was too blinding, too amused, and Jessica scowled, feeling her headache make its return with a vengeance. Then a glass of water was pressed into her hand, and the corners of Jessica's mouth automatically curled up at the feeling of cool condensation collected on icy glass under her fingertips. “Put some clothes on after you’re done with that.”

“I love you,” Jessica said fervently, sitting up and smiling winningly at Tiffany who rolled her eyes, unaffected by the expression of affection. But she grinned anyway, tossing Jessica a bathrobe. 

“You must still be drunk then,” she said, sitting on the edge of the unmade bed.

Jessica drained the glass before setting it down on the bedside stand and wincing as she climbed out of bed rather unsteadily. “How much did I drink yesterday?”

Tiffany shrugged, but Jessica could literally hear her lips setting in a straight line in her tone as Jessica busied herself with tying the belt of her robe. “I had to call a taxi to get you back to the hotel; the both of you were too drunk to drive.”

“Right.” Jessica tightened the loop. Tiffany’s voice had been mild, but she could sense the muted concern. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tiffany probably wanted to say something else, but she waited for Jessica to twist her hair into a bun and open the door to the bathroom before she said, her voice gentle but firm, “Jessi, I think you need to seriously rethink your life.”

“Okay.” That was all Jessica said. On any other occasion she would have responded with a sharp retort, but she knew that Tiffany was concerned—it was a constant characteristic of Tiffany’s, her concern for all the people she cared about—and she bit her tongue. 

“I made reservations for lunch, so shower quick so we can eat.”

“Okay.”

Tiffany rose to leave. “I left some aspirin on the table if your hangover gets worse.” 

I’ll be fine and I can take care of myself, I’ll deal with it all hung on the tip of her tongue, but Jessica saw the softness and worry in Tiffany’s eyes, and all she said was: “Okay.”

Jessica’s head was pounding, and she pushed her sunglasses higher to block out all of the sunlight. Tiffany had reserved a table inside—Jessica wouldn’t be surprised if she had chosen that spot keeping in mind Jessica’s massive hangover because Tiffany was considerate like that—but the sunlight streaming almost spitefully through the massive windows nearby was enough to trigger Jessica’s headache.

Tiffany turned over a page in the menu. “How about steak?”

“Something light.” Jessica sipped at her lemon water. Tiffany had shot her a warning glance when she looked at the wines section in the drinks menu earlier. “My stomach feels hollow.”

“That is the feeling hangovers generally leave you with,” Tiffany agreed mildly, scanning the page. “What exactly is light?”

Jessica flipped through the menu quickly before randomly picking a dish out. “Just get me a quinoa salad.”

Tiffany waved the waiter over and listed their order off. The man confirmed the order before retreating with the faintest hint of admiration colouring his smile directed at Tiffany, and Jessica grinned. 

Tiffany rearranged her cutlery pensively and Jessica could sense a barrage of words coming, so she quickly said, “What did I do last night?”

“Well, you got drunk.” Jessica was relieved to see Tiffany smile, even if it was rather distracted and significantly lacking in wattage compared to her normal smiles. 

“Obviously,” Jes