When Matt got up, he felt very warm...but strangely uncomfortable. When the blurriness had left his eyes and he could see the room clearly, he noticed it was still in a mess from the night before. One vodka bottle was on the floor, another was one a table—Matt gasped for a moment. He was on the floor. He didn't any clothes on, well, minus the boxers. He was sleeping on top of Daemon, who, thank God was wearing clothes though. Matt let out an exasperated sigh and reminded himself to [i]never[/i] to get drunk [i]ever[/i] again. 

As quickly as he could, Matt tried to get his upper body off the floor, but failed miserably after hitting his head against the edge of the table. “Ow—CHRIST!!!” Matt shrieked loudly and clutched his head, trying to get over the pain, which felt ten times worse due to having a extreme headache. He could have sworn that table was not like that the night before...and speaking of that night, where was Hadrian? Matt glanced around the room and didn't see any traces of him anywhere. 

When the pain finally subsided, Matt could hear noticeable breaths coming from Daemon below him. Matt tried to get up from the position, but as a result ended up feeling up his chest while trying to take a grasp on the couch. Oh great, this was going to be awkward.