Camilla's POV
The morning light stabbed through my skull like shards of glass as I opened my eyes in that unfamiliar bedroom. My head felt stuffed with cotton, thick and useless, every thought struggling to form through the haze.
Scattered memories drifted back like smoke, fragmented and unclear. I could barely piece together what had transpired the previous evening. My mind grasped at broken images, trying to reconstruct the night that felt more like a fever dream than reality.
The clearest memory I could summon was my declaration to that arrogant man that alcohol wasn't happening. I had been so determined, so confident in my resolve. Yet here I was, nursing what felt like the worst hangover of my life, my skull throbbing with each heartbeat.
Slowly, the mental fog began to lift. Piece by piece, the events returned with painful clarity, each memory hitting me like a physical blow.
I had drunk far beyond my limits. Far beyond what my body could handle.
