"Mngh..." She whined, barely audible and almost coughed out. Her arms stretched and took hold of the pillow she rested against, snuggling it under her cheek and against her collar. She wasn't asleep, but close to it. Her legs kicked for a blanket but she had been laid to rest on top of it, and her room was cold.
She struggled to sit up and she made disgruntled noises in her frustration. Blurry vision centred on her leather boots.
"Boots!" She exclaimed. Still tucked into her boots were her breeches, and her chemise was still tucked under the belt that held her pants up on her narrow waist. She was making a considerable amount of noise in her frustration and surprise.
Yes, she concluded, Aren was simply a man looking for his next notch. Perhaps he wasn't the type to take advantage of the drunk, but to deposit her still dressed seemed rather basic level caretaking. Perhaps her drunkenness had fueled her anger and made her react more energetically to the smallest things. Last week, Meera would not have cared if she had gone to bed with shoes.
She hunched over to undo her laces and buckles to her knee high hard resined leather boots, only to half way decide that it was too cold in her room to be undressed.
"Shard it all, Meera," she told herself and stood to lift the blanket up from its corner to crawl underneath, completely dressed. When would her head stop hurting?