CHAPTER TWO
Harry’s POV
I woke up with my head pounding and a ringing in my ears. Suddenly I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I ran to the bathroom with my hand clamped tightly over my mouth. I threw open the door and rushed to the toilet, barely making in time. I gripped the edge of the toilet, and emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl. I gagged and let loose another wave of vomit. When I finished, I sat back on my knees and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I could barely see straight, my head hurt so much. How much did I have to drink last night? I couldn't remember anything past sitting down at the bar and ordering a few shots.
I walked back into my room and groaned. Of course I brought a girl home. Of course. I walked closer to her to get a better look. She was sprawled out across my king sized bed, tangled in my sheets with her black hair spread out across the pillows. I reached over to her and tried to shake her awake. She mumbled something incoherently and tried to open her eyes, but was not accustomed to the bright light. I could tell by her bloodshot eyes that she had drank nearly as much as I had last night.
She slowly rose out of my bed, blinking numerous times to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the peaks in my blinds. As she unraveled herself from my sheets, she looked up at me. Her eyes were a surprising shade of blue, one that made me stop and stare. She sighed, as if realizing her drunken mistake, and muttered something that sounded like, "Oh shit, another celebrity?" I sat down on the bed, admiring the view of her naked body while she gathered up her clothes that were scattered across the floor.
"Hmmm, not bad, Styles," I thought, admiring my drunken self for catching such a beautiful girl. She shimmied her dress on over her head and pulled on her ridiculously high heels. She attempted to brush out her hair with her fingers but gave up quickly. Damn, she was hot. She turned to look at me.
"Pick up your jaw and zip me up," she said coldly, while walking over to me and turning around. I reached to pull her hair back from her shoulders and felt her shudder under my touch. I smirked to myself. Boy, do I have a special touch when it comes to ladies. I slowly zipped up her dress, enjoying every second while she squirmed her little body, trying to get me to hurry up. She said a quick thank you, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and made her way to the door. I stood for a moment before realising she was leaving.
"Where do you think you're going?" I asked.
"Away from here. I'm not one to stick around," she replied, her hand on the doorknob. "Come on, as least let me buy you breakfast," I said, scrambling for my keys. I didn't know why, but I didn't want her to leave.
"I'm fine." She opened the door to my bedroom and made her way downstairs. I followed closely behind her.
She walked over to the front door but before she could leave, I reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wait, at least tell me your name and number."
"Sorry Styles, but like I said, I don't tend to stick around."
And with that, my mystery girl walked out of my house. Strangely enough, I felt a sense of loss. Somehow, she was different. She knew who I was, but my fame and money didn't seem to impress her. If I wasn't feeling so down, I might have been laughing. I think I was just used for sex.
