Redamancy | Harry Styles Fanfiction (ongoing)

Chapter Eleven.

"There's a million different reasons
We shouldn't be together
But when I put it all together
It all comes back to you, you, you"

Harry Styles

I can feel my brain and all of my body cussing at me, with the harshest words the dictionary can find. It's a horrid feeling, my nose seems blocked, my brain seems to compete with my nose for the throne. I feel absolutely disgusting all over.

There's a shrill pain in my skull, even makes me wonder if I hurt myself last night. I have no recollection of any events whatsoever.

The ache in my skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide, yet the pain is always there. I understand at once why they call it a hangover, it feels as if the blackest of clouds are over my head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon.

I wave my hand over the other side of the bed, only to be hit with bitter cold sheets. The cold irks me as it is but knowing that she isn't by my side,

My morning is clearly, not off to a good start.

My stomach feels heavy, my head is throbbing, like a bloody construction site which never stops working.
All this noise, all this irritation it forces me out of bed. My body refuses to co-operate with my mind, I'm physically exhausted but the constant botheration tells me it's better to wake up.

I brush my teeth, splash cold water over my face, put on a clean shirt and walk out to the living room, in hopes that I'll find Aurora.

The sunlight streams golden through the windows in a well mannered announcement of the risen sun. The light paints the entire room yellow, blissful and dulcet.

I rub away the remainder of my sleep along with my eyes, inviting my conscious back. I lean against the frame of the door, cold air hits my bare torso from the window being opened slightly.

Sat there, is Aurora, blissfully unaware of my presence, in her comfy, soft cotton pajamas. Sunlight as if on cue, cascading with the sounds of the bird chirping outside.

She sits, engrossed in the book I've seen her preoccupied with, all week. Eyes chasing each printed word, while she turns the page in surprising speed.

Big on reading she is, is what I've learnt so far. Big rounded glasses on her nose to support my observation as well, though she sports them well, she doesn't wear them very often.

Wanting her is easy. That's the best way to describe it, feels like there never is an option but to adore every inch of this beautiful, beautiful person.

She's the best of everything, sugar, spice and everything nice.

I feel the strong urge to always keep her close, like she'd disappear if I don't.

Aurora's a soft natured, undeniably funny, and stupid even. She laughs at practically everything, apologises to the table on hitting it by accident; even when she's the one that's hurt. And everything makes her happy, everything. Rain, pizza, the 'crunch' dried leaves make when you step on them.

Her legs are tucked into the armrest of the couch, with her knees backed up and in the air. I can feel this wave of heat rush to the bottom of my heart when I see my green t-shirt hang lose from her small frame, with the hem of the t-shirt bunched up at her mid-thigh, showing her slightly tanned legs.

I'd be more than happy if we ever got stranded on an island together and the only thing she could wear were my clothes.

How would I ever explain to her the way I felt for her? How would I ever describe to her the things she did to me, to my soul and to my poor, poor heart.