Shadows of a Broken Future

Shadow's POV:

I shift closer to the warm pillow, my muscles sore, and my head pounding. What the hell happened last night? My memory is foggy, but I recall leaving the house, I went to Club Rouge... and then a green hedgehog flashes across my mind. But how did I end up back here? My mind latches onto a clearer memory-Sonic.

Sonic...

Suddenly, my eyes snap open. This isn't a pillow I'm holding. It's something soft, small, and... breathing. My heart skips a beat as I realize what I've been cuddling against. I quickly sit up, but instantly regret that decision. "Ughh, my head". The sunlight stabs at my sensitive eyes, and the sudden movement brings a sharp migraine crashing down on me, hitting me hard like a freight train. Hangovers are hell. I might be able to heal quickly, but this, my body doesn't seem to sense the damage. It's a frustrating weakness. My brain feels sluggish, like I can't quite piece everything together.

A voice breaks through my sleepy haze.

"Ah, morning Shads!" I hear a cheery voice-way too cheery for this early hour-followed by the sound of a body shifting in bed. Faker.

Is it even possible to wake up that happy? I feel something itchy on my leg and, out of reflex, yank the sheets off. The bandages I was wearing must have come loose and tangled during the night. Great. I rip them off, frustration bubbling inside me as my headache is making me more irritated at everything.

Faker looks at the bandages in my hand. "Hold on Shads let me get you new ones-oh." I hear the surprise in his voice. He must have realized what I already know. My leg's healed.

I stand slowly, groaning, and casually toss the old bandages in the corner trash bin. The ache in my head is fucking unbearable.

Sonic jumps up too, stretching like he doesn't have a care in the world. His muscles flex under his blue fur, and my eyes involuntarily linger on him. What the hell is wrong with me? I quickly turn my head and look away as an unfamiliar warmth spreads across my face.

Why am I... looking at him like that? I must've drunk more than I thought last night.

Faker's voice cuts through my internal chaos, his question upbeat and full of energy. "I'm gonna make us some breakfast, anything specific ya want Shads?"

"Coffee" I mutter, hoping my voice sounds more annoyed than i actually feel.

He grins that cocky smile of his and gives a thumbs up. "Gotcha!" and he dashes out of the room before I can even blink. Does he ever slow down?

I look down and notice the still unused gloves that Faker gave me yesterday, resting by my feet. I pick them up, and sigh. If I didn't need that shower before, I do now. I reek of alcohol.

Sonic's POV:

I carefully set the plates of bacon and eggs I made for me and Shads on the table. I figured he might get mad if I made chili dogs for breakfast, and a fight this early in the morning might not be the best idea.

I may have gone a little overboard though. I texted Rouge earlier to ask how Shads likes his coffee-black, with two shots of espresso. I even got a small bowl to pour some of the coffee beans in that we got at the market-Rouge confirmed he does actually eat the tiny bitter things.

Onyx is already devouring his breakfast, tail swishing contentedly. I sit down at the kitchen island, waiting. My ear twitches as I hear Shads metal footsteps approaching, heavy and deliberate. I look up grinning and I can't help but notice the new gloves on his hands. I kind of miss seeing the red stripe that would run down his fingers, the soft pads on the bottom of his paws. What the hell is wrong with me? I have to stop thinking like this. Please do, your mushy lovesick thoughts are disgusting. Dark remarks. Shut up.