Lovino groaned as sleep stirred him awake, giving way to a blaring headache.
*Damn, what happened last night? Probably had something to do with that stupid German, the bastard...*
Getting up turned out to be even worse, with the throbbing now wrapping around his head. Cursing aloud, he went to the kitchen, wishing that the coffee maker and beans were on the nightstand instead.
Details of last night began to return to him. Unfortunately.
It was still fuzzy and mismatched, but Lovino could make out himself with a bottle of Campari, though most of the drink was on him rather than the bottle itself. Then someone came up to him and slurred something about his ass. Naturally he slapped them in response, which made them cry. Lovino hadn’t meant for that to happen, his memory of this person’s face was still unclear, but he was sure it wasn’t anyone he despised. So, he cupped their face in his hands and… he wasn’t quite sure what happened after that.