When Love’s In Fashion

Chapter 4

The world was cruel. Light shone too brightly. The birds outside were too loud. Somewhere a ball bounced against a sidewalk and Elmira wanted to savagely poke a million holes in it until it never thwacked against the ground again.

“I’m going to die,” she announced.

Sven was beside her, laying very still and staring at the ceiling. He looked like he was fighting a losing battle. Elmira sympathized, or at least her rolling stomach did. Last night she’d been too hammered to get home, so Sven invited her to spend the night. More like morning because by the time they got to bed it was 4a.m. She’d sent a quick text to Sascha telling her where she was but she was pretty sure she’d be back before her friend had a chance to read it. If anyone had been more sh*tfaced than Elmira last night, it was Sascha.

“Oh.” Sven bolted up and then he was gone, into the en suite bathroom. Elmira’s eternally grateful that he shut the door so she didn’t have to hear.

The sound of the shower started. Elmira managed to roll over in bed and pull the duvet over her head. Everything ached and hurt and throbbed. She couldn’t remember the exact chain of events that led her here, but her thighs felt like massive bruises attached to her hips and from where she squinted one eye open she could see her belongings and clothes scattered on the floor.

She really, genuinely hoped that last night hadn’t been the hotbed of debauchery she couldn’t really recall but whose evidence she couldn’t ignore. Her pu*sy clenched at the idea and she was reassured that nothing had been in her, at least.

Sven came back a few minutes later. He was naked and wet and smelled like mint toothpaste and body wash.

“I made a mess,” he said. “But I cleaned it up. And now I feel approximately one hundred and ten times better. Which still means I feel like crap. And I’m pretty sure I’m still a little drunk.”

Elmira just grunted. She’d love it if Sven stopped talking. Not forever, just for the next twelve hours or so. Just until Elmira felt human again.

“I’m going to go make some food,” Sven said. He walked out of the room then came back. “Wait, maybe tablets. Do you need tablets?”

Elmira groaned into her pillow. Her body gave every indication that if she tried to put anything into it, everything from the night before would come back out with a forcible ejection.

Sven apparently failed at translating Elmira’s non-verbal cues, because he came back a few minutes later with a glass of tepid water and two tablets.

“Come on,” Sven said. “I’m gonna take care of you. Because I’m a good friend.”

Considering how much alcohol Sven must have let her drink – not that he was the boss of her or anything – she was tempted to argue that point. Of course he was the boss of her but that was professionally and not personally. Yes, clearly some lines had blurred but still…she had no idea what she was talking about; her head was hurting too much. She wanted to ask him about the intimacy also, but she didn’t know if she was ready for the answer. Hey maybe he didn’t remember either.

But arguing would involve speaking and it took everything in her just to sit up for twenty seconds and get the pill down. She had to clench her hands into the bed sheets and wait for the room to stop spinning before she felt safe in letting go. When she was sure the tablets were going to stay put, she slumped back down like a dummy with the strings cut.

Consciousness was already fading back out as she felt Sven tuck the grossly sweaty sheets back around her with endearingly clumsy patting gestures.

*****

It was after noon when Elmira woke up.

Sven was poking her in the shoulder.

Poke. Poke.

Pause.

Poke.

“Elmira?” Sven asked. “Are you dead?”

Elmira groaned.

“Look, you’ve been asleep for about twelve hours; I am beginning to get slightly worried.”

That Sven sounding worried was what got Elmira’s eyes open.

“I’m fine.”

She was not fine. She was not fine at all. She felt clammy and sick and her head hurt.

“I made breakfast,” Sven said. “But then you wouldn’t wake up so I ate it.”

“I hate you,” Elmira rasped. Food sounded slightly appealing, more so when it’s only a temptation dangled in front of her then snatched away.

Sven saved it with, “But then I made lunch! Come eat, you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t believe you,” Elmira said, petulance in her voice. She couldn’t tell queasy from starving “I bet you don’t even cook.”

Sven reached out and pushed Elmira’s hair back from her forehead. The touch felt nice, cool fingers on her skin. It made her almost not mad at Sven for recovering so quickly.

“Come on,” he gently urged. “For me?”

Elmira sighed. She closed her eyes and ignored Sven for just long enough to realize she probably couldn’t go back to sleep with the way her stomach was.

*****

Food didn’t help much.

A shower didn’t help much.

More tablets didn’t help much.

But they all each helped a little bit, leaving her feeling about three stages below human when she curled up onto the sofa an hour later. She opened her laptop just long enough to check on the time for Adrienne’s live show because there was no ways she was going to physically make it; and then she was defiantly in Sven’s crease. Sven allowed it without saying anything. He understood that Elmira was mad at him and accepted his fate with dignity.

Sven’s hangover was gone, of course. Sven was perfectly fine and chipper.

“It’s because I let it all out,” he told Elmira. “Expel the toxins and all that jazz.”

Elmira pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in his arms. She was wearing a sick hoodie, a green one, and Sven’s pajama pants. She felt wretched.

“I think I’m past that,” she said. “Don’t think it would do any good.”

Sven reached out and tugged her over, letting Elmira cozy up to him and rubbing wide circles against Elmira’s back. His actions and his tone were so sweet that Elmira almost didn’t punch him when he said, “Hangovers just get harder as you age.”

Sven choked on a laugh at the solid hit of Elmira’s knuckles to his side and added, “It’s true! I’m sorry! You can’t argue with biology!”

Then, because Sven was heartless under his exterior of friendly adoration, he pulled up article after article and spent the next thirty minutes educating Elmira on the process of acetaldehyde and acetate absorption with a slower metabolic rate. He only shut up when Elmira tried to get up and leave.

*****

Elmira found the link to the Adrienne’s show and clicked on it. The internet speeds at Sven’s were off the charts and the soft leather couch she was sitting on was so comfortable it was all she could do not to fall asleep. Who lived like this and how could she get in on that action? She ran her hand up and down the seat, enjoying the feel of soft, expensive comfort beneath her fingers.

“Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” Sven stuck his head in the door to ask startling her.

“No, I’m fine thanks. The show’s about to start.”

“Okay then. I’ll leave you to it.” Sven said disappearing again.

Elmira sighed, signed on to the website and sat back to watch. She had texted Sascha to see if she was coherent enough to attend the show in person and found to her surprise that she was already there. The socialite she’d been flirting with had called, apologetic about disappearing and wanting another go at Sascha. So they were both at the show. Elmira had extracted a promise from her friend that she’d taken some quality shots of the runway and the crowd. So all Elmira had to scare up was the copy to accompany it. Adrienne’s show wasn’t holding her interest today though. She was still very tired but she sat up as straight as she could and watched.

“After this I am soo going back to bed,” she murmured to herself.