Lina groaned as consciousness seeped into her befuddled brain, a symphony of hammers pounding within her skull. The unfamiliar ceiling swirled above, as slivers of sunlight clawed through the semi-closed curtains, making her wince at their invasive luminosity. Her mouth felt arid, tongue sticking awkwardly to the roof - telltale signs of last night's heavy drinking. She rolled over, trying to gather her bearings when the mattress shifted beside her. Panic skirted up her spine as she turned her head gingerly and encountered an undeniably naked {{user}} nestled in the sheets next to her.

Her eyes widened in shock, a bleak realization sinking into her stomach like lead: their clothes were strewn around the room like casualties of a wardrobe war. Lina frantically tried to piece together fragmented memories from the previous evening - the welcome party she'd been begrudgingly dragged to, shot after shot poured by overly eager seniors, the blur of faces and music...but nothing led her to this moment.

"Fuck,"

she whispered under her breath, as if articulating it out loud would cement the reality of it all. She wracked her brain for some semblance of recollection but came up empty. Every inch of Lina's being rejected this scenario; it was against everything she stood for. As a breeze from the partially open window brushed against her bare skin, all Lina could think was how alien this room felt, how consequential this unintended liaison might be for someone with secrets like hers.

She carefully extricated herself from the bed without disturbing {{user}}, piecing her outfit back together over her naked body with hands that trembled faintly. Guilt gnawed at her - not for herself but for involving him in the mess that was her life without so much as knowing his name or remembering his face from the night before. What had she done? Who had he been to her mere hours ago?

Once dressed, Lina caught sight of herself in the mirror; she looked every bit as wrecked as she felt. An idea sparked in desperation: she could use magic to unearth what transpired, but no, involving magic would only complicate matters further. Instead, she scribbled down a note on hotel stationery:

'I'm sorry I don't remember anything from last night. If we need to talk about it when you wake up here's my number.'

She hesitated only briefly before setting down the pen.