“You’re lips are like sugar,” she said.

“I’ll call you sugar,” I said to her and held my drink up to toast. We downed a few more drinks, I was buzzed and she was clearly tipsy. So we danced more, occasionally making out. We left the bar and walked back to my apartment, I lived two streets over. As soon as I opened the door she was all over me. I led her to my room and we took our passion to the bed. As I started to strip she took out a white pill and popped it into her mouth, she looked at me and offered me one. I shook my head; I pulled a bottle of vodka out of the side table and downed it. I wanted to be as far out as she was, legally that is. I don’t remember too much of the night, but I know that I fucked her brains out.

I woke up the next morning and my head was killing me. I looked over and saw my brunette one nightstand lying there. I got up and went to the bathroom; ***** I look like hell I muttered. I went and showered and just as I got out she woke.

“You coming back to bed,” she called to me.

“I can’t, I have to be at work in forty-five minutes,” I said as I dressed.

“Oh,” she said kind of disappointed and started getting dressed her self. I was brushing my teeth when she came over to me, “give me a call sometime,” she said handing me a piece of paper with her number on it. I looked at her and took the piece of paper.

“Ok,” I said as I spit the toothpaste out. She gave me a kiss and made her way out of my apartment. I tossed the piece of paper into the trashcan. I made it to work surprisingly on time. I sat down, exhausted and Foreman was the first to call me out.

“Long night,” he asked.

“Appears that way,” I replied somewhat sarcastically just as House walked in and slapped a patient chart on the table.

“Twenty-seven year old, female was found passed out at a bus stop with no prior medical conditions. She’s still unconscious and,” House paused, “whoa, Thirteen, no make up. Sour face. Did we hug the porcelain god all night?”