Marius still can only manage tiny sips from the water bottle at most, in between blocking his face from the outside light. His thoughts are a mess of confusion; he should never have drunk so much to begin with. He shouldn't have gotten into such a situation. But more than that, he shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as he did. Because, even in the midst of his turbulent stomach and aching head, he still recalls the shivers of pleasure he'd enjoyed with Rat. He tries not to linger too long on that thought.

And then Rat mentions food, and Marius' stomach clenches in preparation for the inevitable.

"Fuck," he swears, stumbling out of bed to try and make it to the bathroom. His eyes screwed shut against the blinding light, however, he doesn't see where he's going, and collides with the wall, nose first.

"Damn it!" He yelps, falling back flat on his ass and wincing at the pain blossoming in his nose.

But, oddly enough, it distracts him enough to keep him from getting sick.