Harry’s P.O.V

I saw her go into the loo. I saw the bottle in her hand. I heard the sound of a cork pop from behind the door. Quickly I reached for the handle, but she’d locked it. I ran into the banquet hall and arrived at our table. “Um,” I said, “I’m going to go, okay mates? I’ll see you.”

I sprinted out of the hall before they could even say goodbye. They were all smiling, except for Eleanor, whose face was slightly fearful. She stared at me, and we communicated with our eyes. I think she knew that something bad was happening, because she hesitated and then nodded, and I left.

I whipped out my cell phone and called my limo driver. “Hey Mark. It’s Harry. Please bring the car around back. Yep, thanks so much.” I pressed the ‘End’ button without saying goodbye. I quickly made my way back to the loo and pounded on the door.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath. Sure enough, the lock clicked, and the door opened, only to reveal Isabelle, holding a three-quarters empty bottle of vodka. We stared at each other.

“Harry,” she whispered, and she dropped the bottle, where it fell to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces. She began to sway, and I caught her before she fell. Cradling her passed out figure in my arms, I ran around the lobby, desperate to find a hall that led to the back door. Finally I did, and I rammed through the door. As expected, the black limo was there, and the driver opened the car door, but I shouted, “Don’t worry about it, I got it!” I quickly opened the door and slid in, with Isabelle still in my arms.

As the limo began to move, I laid her down on the long leather seats and crouched on the floor beside her, trying to wake her up. She was passed out, and would probably wake up in the morning. I checked her temperature and studied her face, which had turned pale. She was still beautiful though. “You idiot,” I whispered, trying to wake her up with my voice, “Why would you do that? You’re such an idiot.” I continued to push hair off of her face and wipe sweat from her brow as the limo sped along.

We arrived at my flat and I gathered her in my arms again, jumping out and signalling thanks to the driver. I quickly unlocked the door and slammed it, making my way to my bedroom, where I lay Isabelle down on the large queen-sized bed and covered her with blankets. I closed the bedroom door and locked it, even though Louis had told me that he’d be crashing and El’s house that night.

Hurriedly, I pulled off my suit jacket and ripped off my tie and my dress shirt, laying them down on the floor and falling on top of them. I hoped that Isabelle would be fine in the morning. I sat up again, deciding to watch her while she slept…stupid, I know.

Even though she looked sick, she was still beautiful. She looked younger, somehow. All of her worry lines faded, and her mouth puckered slightly. Her eyelids were relaxed, and she breathed steadily.

I watched her until I fell asleep.

Isabelle’s P.O.V

I awoke the following morning with a pounding headache. I couldn’t remember anything; all I felt was an imaginary hammer spiking at my temples. Why was I having such a migraine? I didn’t feel too good either. What happened? What was going on? I groaned and rolled over on the bed, ending up on my back. I studied the room, and it was oddly familiar. The bed was big and white, the walls were blue, and the dresser and nightstand were white. Was I…?

I groaned and rolled over again.

And suddenly, I was falling.

Subconsciously I brace myself for a hard hit to the floor, maybe a bump or bruise or two. Instead, I landed on something. “Fuck!” I heard. I quickly scrambled back up onto the bed, crossing my legs, and watching as Harry sat up from the floor. “Oh God, Harry. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice slightly hoarse, “Yeah, I’m good.” I nodded, and noticed that I was still in my dress from the night before, which reminded me, “Harry…what happened last night?”

He looked at me, suddenly, and it seemed like for a moment, he looked relieved. “You—you don’t remember?”

“Not a thing,” I whispered, and Harry chewed on his lip. “Harry,” I insisted, “Harry, tell me.” He looked up nervously at me for a moment, “You got drunk,” he explained quietly, “You drank three quarters of a bottle of vodka…alone. I found you in the loo and brought you here.”

I nodded silently. “But why?” I asked. He shrugged, “I—I don’t know.”

That’s when I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a top. He stood, and I observed the naked upper-half of his body, very aware that I’d never seen him like this before. He had so many tattoos that I couldn’t count them all. His six-pack was like a flashing neon sign, and I tried not to ogle it. If my gaze dropped down, I saw two lines that formed a ‘V’ right above the waistband of his dress pants. I quickly averted my eyes when he looked down at me.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, sitting down beside me on the bed. I scrambled back a bit, trying to make myself as compact as possible, very aware that he was half-naked and we were sitting so close together. “Um, fine,” I stammered. He shook his head, “Don’t give me that shit. How do you really feel?”

My shoulders dropped, “Like complete crap.”

He nodded empathetically, “That’s what I thought.” I looked around the bedroom again, and desperate to change the topic, I asked, “Where am I anyways?” Although I already had a pretty good idea. When Harry spoke, it only confirmed my thoughts.

“At my place,” he said, “Louis isn’t here; he stayed at El’s last night.” I pursed my lips and nodded, very aware that the topic had turned dry and the air had become thick with tension. Harry seemed to realise this too, because he said, “Oh,” and stood suddenly, making his way over to his big dresser, pulling open a drawer, and rummaging through it, examining the contents.

“Here,” he pulled out clothes and tossed them to me. I caught them and studied them. There was a baggy Hipsta Plzzz t-shirt and a pair of Roots sweatpants. I must’ve looked confused, because Harry walked back over to the bed and sat back down, explaining, “No offence, but you look terrible. Just wear my clothes for the day. We won’t go out in public, I promise.” He grinned at the last part.

I nodded and set the clothes down, and without warning, I reached out and hugged him. He hugged me back, and I nuzzled my face into his bare shoulder, pulling him closer to me. “Thanks,” I muttered. I could feel his body vibrate with a chuckle, “No problem. Now go get dressed.”

I entered the washroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Harry had been right; I did look terrible. My hair was messy and my makeup was smudged. There were several spots on my dress, which was unruly. I quickly combed out my hair with my fingers and tied it up into a high ponytail. I washed off all of my makeup, leaving my face naked and untouched. I think it was the first time in a while that I’d gone without mascara, or highlighter. Finally, I shrugged off my green dress and it fell to the floor in a pile. I quickly grabbed the clothes that Harry had given me, sliding the shirt over my torso and pulling his Roots pants on. The shirt was baggy and went down just past my butt, and I had to pull on the strings of the sweatpants and tie them tightly in order to keep the material seated on my hips.

I exited the bathroom and Harry whistled, “You look nice.” I rolled my eyes, “Don’t be an ass.” He held up his hands, “No, I’m being serious. You actually look nice.”

“Liar.”

“Am not!”

“Liar.”

“Why are girls so self-conscious?”

“It’s not like we want to be.” I curled up on his bed, breathing in the smell of his pillows while he wasn’t looking. He turned to me and smiled, his figure looming over me. “You shouldn’t be self-conscious,” he told me sincerely, “You’re pretty.”

I know that it wasn’t much of a compliment, but my heart began to beat faster as he said it. He thought I was pretty? No boy had ever told me that before, and a tingly feeling began to course through my veins. Trying not to be rude, I blurted, “So are you.”

Then I realised how stupid that sounded, and I hastened to make amends, “Um, I mean, you’re pretty good-looking. Does that even make—yeah it does. Um, wow this is awkward.” But Harry never heard me, because he was already laughing. I laughed along, but mine was a nervous sort of chuckle. Harry took a deep breath and stared at me intensely, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night?” he asked me, suddenly serious. “No,” I said, pursing my lips. I tried to rack my brain for anything, but all that came up were little bits and pieces that made absolutely no sense. “Why?” I asked, wanting to ease the tension, “Did we have sex?”

Harry laughed, and shook his head, “No, no we didn’t,” he looked at me again, “But if you want—”

“No,” I said, cutting him off and pressing my hands to my ears, “No, no, no. Don’t even say what I think was about to come out of your mouth. Just no.” Harry laughed again and I grinned. We looked at each other for a few seconds before he threw his thumb over his shoulder, “Well, I should…be making breakfast. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Yeah,” I said, as he stood. He turned to leave and was at the door before I remembered something. “Harry,” I said, and he turned around, only to be hit in the face with the white dress shirt he’d been wearing the night before. “Put on a shirt,” I grinned at him, as he smirked. He quickly buttoned up the blouse and flashed me a thumbs up sign, something that I gladly mimicked, and then he disappeared out the door. I heard footsteps receding down the hall, and soon a shuffle of plates and cups clanging against one another.

Subconsciously, I fell back on his bed, sighing. I sniffed the air once more, and my nose tingled with the scent of cinnamon.

Honestly, what cologne did he use? I’d have to ask him for the name. Wait, no that would be oddly stalker-ish.

I tried remembering anything from last night, but my mind came up blank. Why was Harry so obsessed with my sudden memory loss? He was acting weird, and he brought it up twice or thrice. Had something happened last night that he wanted me to remember?

Or had it been something that he didn’t?

*Ten minutes later*

I padded over to the kitchen, barefoot. Harry’s clothes were still a bit loose on me, and I gathered the material of his shirt at the back and twisted it around, curling it into a bun that I tucked into the back of the sweatpants, exposing a little bit of skin. Before pushing open the door, I wrung my hands a little bit to shake out my nervousness. I walked in.

Harry was at the stove, his back to me. He seemed to be balancing a pan in one hand, and a plate in the other. I snuck up behind him a plucked the dish neatly out of his hand. He turned around looking surprised for a moment, “Hey!” but then he saw that it was only me, and he smirked at me, “Can I please have my plate back?”

I backed up, smiling mockingly, “Nope. You’ll have to catch me first.” He rolled his eyes and set the pan down on the stove, quickly turning a knob to shut it off, so that the house wouldn’t go down in flames. I stood there silently, wondering if he would reject my offer to run after me, when suddenly he shot me a look out of the corner of his eye. I knew then that he was going to come for me, and I took a head start, squealing as I sprinted away. I could hear him follow me.

We ran around the halls, and I was careful not to let the plate drop. A few times, as I rounded corners, Harry reached out and nipped my t-shirt, but he could never get a full hold on it, and I managed to dance out of his grip. “Damn Twinkle Toes!” He yelled behind me, which only made me laugh harder. Soon, I was just stumbling around blindly, laughing so hard that my eyes watered, and eventually, I slowed to the point where Harry caught up with me.

Unfortunately, I stopped in the living room. I stopped abruptly. Harry ran into me, and we toppled. I lost my hold on the plate and it went flying. Fortunately, it landed on the couch, and toppled onto the soft carpeted floor, where it stayed in one piece. The same could not be said for Harry and me.

The force of our crash was enough to knock me forward. Harry caught me but he was off balance, and my weight only dragged him down. The good thing was that he managed to slow our fall; the bad thing was that he was about to land on top of me. I cried out.

Suddenly, Harry managed to turn us around in midair so that way I ended up falling on top of him. There was a thud as we landed on the carpet. We stared at each other for a moment and then laughed. I laughed so hard that I buried my face into Harry’s shoulder. Slowly, my hands came up to tangle in his hair. His chuckles were cut off abruptly.

“Harry?” I asked, looking up at him, “Harry is everything al…” but I trailed off when I saw his face. His eyes danced, and the gray morning light wafted through a window, turning his brown hair bright. He stared at me for a moment as if he’d never seen me.

And then, without any warning, he leaned forward.

C’mon, I thought hungrily, kiss me.

And for a moment, I really thought he was going to too. But at the last moment, he turned and veered off to the side, his lips only scraping against my cheek. Did he intend to do that? His voice whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending tingles down my spine, “You know, if we were naked right now, this would have been much more eventful.”

I forced my drooping eyelids to stay up. “Well,” I whispered back, “If we were naked right now, I would probably be in the washroom, changing.”

“Can I come with you?” he whispered again, and I could feel him smile. “Nope,” I shook my head, grinning, “You’d have to catch me first.” I made a quick move to stand up and begin running again, but Harry was too quick, and he grabbed my arm, wrenching me back down to him. I fell on top of him again, but this time, our lips were only millimeters apart. I let out a small but audible gasp, and Harry smirked at me.

“Harry,” I said suddenly, “I’m hungry.” I mentally face-palmed. That was the best I could come up with? Dammit. Harry just stared at me for a second before sitting up. I shrieked as I almost toppled off of him, and he chuckled, taking my hands and pulling me up daintily. I grinned up at him and messed up his hair a bit, and then we walked back towards the kitchen.

At the stove, I helped Harry make scrambled eggs and bacon, and French toast. He marveled at my cooking skills, and I just grinned. I cracked the eggs expertly and slathered butter on the toast like a pro. I couldn’t help but be impressed with Harry’s cooking skills as well. He was pretty good. Soon the kitchen smelled amazing.

Harry bumped my hip, and I stared up at him, scoffing. I bumped his hip back, and soon, we were nudging feet, shoulders, slapping each other’s arms. Suddenly, I heard from behind us, “Well, this is something!”

I whipped around, only to find Louis and Eleanor standing in the doorframe. Louis wore a creative smirk, and El smiled genuinely at us. “Oh, um, hi,” I managed a tiny wave while balancing plates in my hands. Eleanor’s eyes were sweet, “Do you have enough for us?” I nodded soundlessly while Harry said, “Of course. Have a seat.”

Louis and El took their seats at a table fit for six while I stared back down at the bacon I was cooking, feeling extremely embarrassed. How much of that had they seen? I hadn’t even heard them come in.

But when Harry nudged my hip with his again, I stared up at him, trying for a smile. He laughed quietly when he saw my pink cheeks, but didn’t make a big deal out of it. I mouthed a thank-you. “So,” Louis began, “What went down last night between you two?”

At first, I thought he was referring to the banquet hall. I couldn’t even remember. Harry shrugged, “Nothing,” he said quickly, while
I shook my head, at a loss for words and memories. Louis laughed, “Not the hall,” he said, seeming to read my thoughts, “I know something pretty big went down between you two then. I’m talking about when you got here.”

El slapped Louis’ arm, scolding him for saying something so suggestive. I, on the other hand, allowed my mind to reel. What had happened at the banquet hall? What was this ‘Pretty big thing’ that had gone down? Why hadn’t Harry told me when I asked?

“Um,” Harry said, snapping me out of my thoughts, “Nothing. We slept.” I nodded, even though I had no recollection of when we got to his flat. “Slept?” Louis raised an eyebrow, “Or slept?” Eleanor made an exasperated noise, “They slept, Lou. There’s nothing else to it.” She leaned in and whispered something else in her boyfriend’s ear. I couldn’t hear it exactly, but it sounded like, “Now stop embarrassing her.”

That just made me flush even harder and stare down at the stove. El turned back to us, smiling sweetly, “Now, why don’t you come sit back down. We can all eat together.”

“Sure,” Harry said, and he plopped down in a chair on the opposite end of the table. I brought the remaining plates and sat next to him. Then, remembering that Eleanor thought that we were really dating, I leaned into him a bit. He quickly got into the spirit and took my hand under the table. Louis and Eleanor piled food onto their plates and soon we were all eating and talking. At one point, El said, “Wow, you guys, this is so good. I’m going to get fat and have to retire.” I laughed.

For a moment, while Louis and Eleanor were talking to themselves, debating something, I whispered in Harry’s ear, “Let go of my hand, you munch. They can’t see under the table.” Harry looked at me and chuckled, but released my hand nonetheless. I scratched my temple, and smiled at him. He just rolled his eyes playfully.

“I need to talk to you later,” I told him quietly. He looked confused, but shrugged, “Okay, whatever. Let’s eat first though. This eggs are good.” He winked at me and I blushed. I tried to act all sweet and careless now. But I was going to have a stern talk with Harry about ‘what went down’ last night at the dinner.

I just couldn’t believe he’d lied to me.

Notes

I hope you liked it! Sorry if this chapter is kind of short! Please, please, please with a succulent cherry on top rate, comment, vote and subscribe! To those of you who have already subscribed, THANK YOU!!! ILY all!