It seems possible, between inability to remember relevant details and the headaches, yes. Given what she's done before, would making even water alcoholic be much of a challenge for her?
[Despite not being much of a touchy-feely person himself, he could tell his touch did help her a little, and so he gently strokes her hair as he sits beside her. It seemed unlikely to help significantly, but even a little was probably beyond anything else he could do for her at the moment.]
[Pauses for a moment to gently tuck her in before going to retrieve their clothes. While normally he'd be the kind of boy to put on his pants first, instead he puts on his shirt first-- he doesn't like questions about the scar on his chest, and she doesn't seem to have seen it, so it's best she never does. Underwear next, then pants. Her clothes, meanwhile, are neatly folded and left at the foot of the bed.]
[the gesture makes a smile rise to her lips, quiet and sweet, watching him move about the room. She's got her own share of scars- she's noticed some of his, but doesn't comment on them; it's clear he's survived, just as she has, so there's nothing to bring up.
Once her clothes are there, she keeps the sheets pressed up above her breasts, some form of modesty, grabbing for her clothes]
[aaand once her clothes are there, he sits quietly, facing away from her so she can dress without feeling like he's watching her or anything like that.]
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I don't think I ... did anything that would have given me head trauma... At least-- well.
[just kind of like nnnghhh what is going onnnn.]
I don't either. Is it some sort of trick? One of her games?
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I... don't know. It seems possible.
[A pause as something occurs to him.]
... Well, I'm fairly certain nothing happened, aside from possible inebriation.
[And naked cuddling. But that doesn't loosen collars, apparently.]
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[...mmphhh pressing her face into the pillow, miserable]
Is this a hangover? I had heard about them. They're truly miserable. [tugging the covers over her heeeeeeeeeeead]
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[Despite not being much of a touchy-feely person himself, he could tell his touch did help her a little, and so he gently strokes her hair as he sits beside her. It seemed unlikely to help significantly, but even a little was probably beyond anything else he could do for her at the moment.]
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Still has an arm around him and hums a little bit when he starts playing with her hair again- it doesn't really help past sheer physical comfort.]
What's the point, though?
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[Well, he won't know that unless you tell him... :(]
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[He may or may not have lots of scars to prove that, though the big star-shaped one over his heart isn't actually from that.]
To embarrass us, I suppose? And, given this... compromising situation, I'm not certain all of us would have... chosen rest over activity.
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The embarrassment factor-- ah. It worked well.
[...how did her skirt get over there. :(]
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[Pauses, thinking for a moment.]
Rest. I'll gather the clothes for us.
[Because as awkward as it may be, clothes are still clothes, and, well. She's got the worst headache ever, apparently.]
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...Ah. How did our clothing...
[no, not asking that, just. If he's moving, she's curling into the warm spot left in his part of the bed]
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Once her clothes are there, she keeps the sheets pressed up above her breasts, some form of modesty, grabbing for her clothes]
...thank you.
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[aaand once her clothes are there, he sits quietly, facing away from her so she can dress without feeling like he's watching her or anything like that.]
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Are you doing alright......?
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