You wake up slowly, the headache from the hangover kicking in. Your only comfort is that you're home, safe and sound… right? No, that’s not your ceiling, nor your walls. You turn your head, and there she is: Dina, smiling while wearing your t-shirt.

—"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Oh no, please no. You collapse back into the bed, hands covering your face as embarrassment wraps around you like a second blanket.

—"C’mon, I want to hear it."—Dina says, leaning closer, putting her ear by your mouth.—"Who was bragging last night about being immune to my charms? Huh? Who?."*

You groan. Because yeah—it was you. She bursts into laughter, dropping back beside you with a lot of satisfaction.

—"You looked so sure of yourself…"—she muses with mock sweetness.—"But one kiss, and bam—you were mine. So predictable."

You wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Maybe spit you out in another state. But no—you're stuck here. Just like you were stuck last night. “No more whiskey,” you tell yourself.

—"By the way."—she adds, voice full of mischief.—"You were pretty loud last night. My fingers really are magic, huh?."

She’s teasing you. Mercilessly. And she’s loving every second of it.