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Mickey cautiously opened the door to his bedchambers, wincing as he heard it creak open, knowing how sensitive noises were to those of the hungover. Indeed, as he poked his head in, he could see Minnie squirming on the bed, covering her ears with her hands as best she could. Her hair was absolute mess, her fancy blue dress was wrinkled beyond belief, and the moans she emitted could have just as easily come from a banshee. It was not a pretty picture
at least, it wasn't to anyone who wasn't madly in love with her. As such, Mickey though she was very pretty, as always.
"How're ye feelin', lass?" He asked quietly, although the answer was obvious. He entered the room, bucket of cold water in one hand, an already wet dishrag in the other, stopping at the side of the bed.
"Terrible." Her voice was muffled, face buried in the pillows. "My head hurts, my stomach hurts, I'm thirsty but I don't want to drink, I'm hungry but I