Luna’s POV
When I wake again, the pounding in my head has lessened slightly, but I really REALLY need to use the bathroom. I throw back the covers and stagger from the bed, moving unsteadily around the bed toward the en suite and pushing inside.
I use the facilities, cradling my throbbing head in my hands as I do so. Damn you, Celeste, and damn your deliciously fruity c.ocktails! I’m never drinking again!
Shuffling toward the sink, I turn on the faucet and wash my hands before splashing water on my face, hoping the cold will somehow, miraculously make the hangover vanish. I glance up into the mirror, groaning loudly when I see the gaunt looking mess staring back at me. My hair is a knotted bird’s nest on top of my head, dark rings shadow my eyes, and the little bit of cheap makeup I put
