Things I Can, Things I Can’t

When I woke up the next morning, I knew I was violently ill. The sun wasn’t even that bright, but it burned a hole in my head through the curtains. I tried to bury my head into the pillow even more. My head felt like it had been filled with boiling water. I felt Eleanor next to me, and patted behind me. I hoped she wasn’t in a bad of a state as me and could bring me some water, and at this rate, a bucket to puke in. I certainly wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom.

She didn’t stir or reply and it forced me to brave opening an eye. When I did, I stared at the wallpaper in front of me. This wasn’t Harry’s room. This wasn’t Eleanor’s room. This wasn’t even my room.

I suddenly went very cold. I knew, by the feeling of the sheets on my skin that I wasn’t fully clothed. And I knew, exactly by the wallpaper, where I was.

I closed my eyes and begged, that I wasn’t where I thought I was. I slowly reopened them, and when I saw I was in my underwear, I was near on hysterical. Slowly, I pushed up from the bed, still facing the wall, not daring to turn round. I felt my stomach churn. I closed my eyes again, trying not to start sobbing. Deep breaths. I slowly turned to my side. I saw two legs under the sheet. I traveled up further, and my fears were confirmed. The mousey blonde hair that stuck out from the covers was not Eleanor. This was very much Will’s bedroom, and that was very much Will.

Quickly, I leaped for his en-suite, feeling sickness force it’s way up my chest. I locked the door, my hands shaking. I found it difficult to throw up because I was sure I was having a panic attack. My stomach lurched and poured itself into the ceramic bowl. I didn’t want to, but I desperately searched my mind for what happened last night.

Dancing with Eleanor, maybe having a few more drinks. Everything after that was black. I pleaded with my mind to tell me what happened. I stood up, trembling and looked in the mirror. I looked up to the ceiling and prayed. My body was sore all over, but isn’t it always after a hangover?

I felt my heart break. Regardless of whether anything happened between Will and I, I had already deeply betrayed Harry. I had slept in my underwear with my ex-boyfriend, and it had taken less than three weeks of him being out of the country for me to fall back into bed with him.

I pulled at my hair, just mouthing no, no no. Over and over. I tried to pull myself together, clambering at the door handle and trying to quietly let myself out. Will stood, on the other side of his room, not looking at me.

“What,” I began, breathlessly, and I couldn’t finish. He looked at me, as if he was scared to. His eyes were full of sadness. I pulled the sheet from the bed and covered my modesty.
“Do you remember anything?” He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
I stared at him blankly. Every word and every move he made killed the hope that last night was innocent. I knew, I felt that something very wrong had happened.
“Annie-“
“Don’t.” I sobbed. “Please don’t.”

Will sighed, sitting on his bed and putting his head in his hands.

“We slept together, Annie."

My head whirled and I closed my eyes tightly, letting salty tears fall rapidly down my face. I heard him stand up again.

“I was so drunk.. I’m so sorry.” He said, a lump in his throat. “I know you hate me but I honestly.. I didn’t want this to.. I just, I can’t believe we did this."
“You’re fucking lying.” I cried. “I wouldn’t do that to him. I’m not like you.”
“I’m lying?” He said, his voice full of stress. He motioned towards the bin next to me. I slowly brought my eyes down, my head swimming. A blue, foil wrapper sat on top of the screwed up paper. I knew immediately that it was a condom wrapper. “I hurt you in the past, very badly, but I’m not a monster. I’m not lying.” He continued.

I struggled to find any air, my lungs feeling like they had closed. I felt hysterical. I quickly sat down on the bed before I fell down, and immediately recoiled knowing what happened in those sheets.

“Why don’t you remember?” He sighed, sadly. I knew he was becoming more emotional, his voice laced with sadness. “You.. you told me you loved me. You.. said you’d only ever loved me."

I winced with his words and all I could do was hold up a pathetic hand to stop him saying anymore. Mortified, devastated, and suicidal was how I felt. This was not me, this was not the sort of thing I would do. But obviously, it was. I was just as bad as the asshole I was sharing this room with.

And Harry. Oh, God. Harry.

I couldn’t even fathom his name in my head. I’d destroyed everything. I’d set fire to everything I had worked so hard to find.

I couldn’t stomach another second here, knowing what I had done. I gathered my things, pulling on my dress, and held my shoes. I pushed past Will in fits of tears, running down the stairs and out onto the street. Thank God he lived near a taxi rank. I thought about where exactly I should go. If I went home, my mother would probably phone an ambulance. If I went to Eleanor’s, she would probably call an ambulance and run me over with it, if I told her. If I went back to.. his house, I would probably feel so overcome with guilt that I would run in front of the ambulance myself.

Notes

NOW GUYS! IMPORTANT
i know you probably hate me for this chapter, and can think of nothing worse, but you need to stick with it. not everything is as clear cut and obvious as it seems. You need to read the next few chapters to understand.

THANKS!