New Year’s Day
anon prompt- owen and amelia had a new years eve party and owen is really hungover on new years day, amelia takes care of him
“I want to skydive, and— and swim with sharks, oh! And bungee jump, obviously,” Owen began rambling. “How about you make your New Year’s resolutions list when you’re sober, yeah?” Amelia laughed. Owen nodded as he threw his head back against couch.
The two had been sitting on the living room floor for an hour watching a cheesy Lifetime movie. It was three in the morning and all the guests had left hours earlier. Amelia did her best to keep an eye on Owen all night, knowing how clumsy he gets when he drinks.
As he reached for the glass of alcohol on the table, Amelia stopped him. “I’m cutting you off,” she said, “I don’t want to start my new year cleaning up your vomit.”
Owen looked over and stared at Amelia. “What?” She asked. “I love your face,” he replied. “You’re so drunk, O.”
“Drunk I am not,” Owen closed his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed,” Amelia offered as she began to stand up.
“Nooooo,” Owen groaned, “I want to stay here.”
“On the floor?” Amelia asked. “Yup,” Owen nodded. “At least sleep on the couch,” she offered. “I like the floor,” he protested, “It’s nice and welcoming.”
Amelia shook her head as she gathered the pillows and a blanket from off the couch, placing them on the floor. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle and a bucket from under the sink. “Amelia,” Owen said.
“What?” Amelia set the water and bucket on the floor beside him. “Does playing Mario Cart drunk count as drunk driving?”
“Go to bed,” Amelia laughed. Owen laid down on the floor and Amelia placed him in the recovery position. She sat on the chair across from him and watched as he fell asleep, in fear that he would choke on his own vomit.
“Mia,” Owen whispered, loudly. “Mia,” he repeated. Amelia woke up from her spot on the chair and looked at her husband. “You okay?” She asked.
“Is Taco Bell open 24 hours?” Owen asked, still doing his best to whisper but was basically shouting. “We are not going to Taco Bell, Owen,” Amelia said, looking at her phone, “It’s 4:30 in the morning.”
“Can we go tomorrow? Please?” Owen pouted his lips like that of a 4 year old begging for candy. “We can go tomorrow,” Amelia confirmed, “Go back to sleep.”
“But I can’t find any sheep,” Owen whispered. “Sheep?” Amelia asked.
“I can’t find any sheep to count,” he said.
Owen woke up at three in the afternoon. Amelia had been awake since eight, quietly cleaning up the bottles and trash from the night before.
“I thought you were dead,” Amelia laughed, seeing Owen sit up. “I feel dead,” he groaned as he stood up. He stumbled, and Amelia rushed over to his side.
“Easy there,” she said, putting her arm around his waist. Owen instantly put his hand up to his head and shut his eyes closed, grimacing.
“Advil?” She asked, sitting him down on the couch. “Please,” he replied. “Do you still want Taco Bell?” Amelia smiled.
“Taco Bell?” Owen questioned. “You said you wanted Taco Bell last night,” she informed.
“I’m not drunk enough for Taco Bell right now.”