Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 46.

Hello, this chapter might be triggering for anyone who's suffered with an eating disorder. If you think this might trigger you then please skip to the authors note for a summary of this chapter excluding some parts which might be triggering.

Please look after and be kind to yourselves. Do not read what makes you uncomfortable.

Sending love, always.

°°
I walk through walls
I float down the Liffey
I'm not here
This isn't happening
°°

Harlow Dean

I feel like death.

However one thing that's definitely making this raging demon of a hangover slightly better, is the sight of a man who's very easy on the eye lying face down in bed next to me.

He sleeps on his stomach, I've realised that from the times I've woken up like this. Both his arms are cradled under the pillow which makes his back muscles tense, allowing them to be carved out by the sunlight beaming through the window.

This feels like a summer morning, despite the fact it's heading into September. Summer is my favourite season so the fact it's still warm and sunny is certainly helping me grasp on to every aspect of that season before it disappears.

Unfortunately, the soothing sunshine is not enough to get rid of the thinking headache I have right now. I feel bloody awful.

Just as I'm debating whether to go back to sleep for the next five years or run for a glass of water, Harry let out a quiet groan and turned his head to the side so he was now facing me with his eyes open. When our eyes locked, a smile began to form on his lips which caused his dimple to make an appearance.

It's too early for him to look this good, what the fuck?

"How you feeling?" He asks with his raspy voice displaying that he had just woken up.

I remember getting into a taxi last night with Harry after doing one too many shots at the club, however after that my memory fades. I know that nothing happened between us though, which is kind of reassuring because I'm sure so many men would jump into things like that at any given opportunity. Harry didn't.

"Fuck off." I shoot back, diving straight back into the pillow in the hopes that if I just lay here the hangover will magically disappear and Harry won't go blind at the sight of me, an ugly looking creature, in the morning.

Oh shit.

I know this feeling.

Why?

I quite literally ran 100 miles an hour to the bathroom with my hand held over my mouth as if that would actually do anything and the second I reached the toilet bowl I threw myself down on the floor. Out came probably every last drop of alcohol I drank last night, as well as my dignity.

I've never felt worse in my life...this is bringing back a lot of memories.

Harry appears in the doorway with his arms crossed and that pitiful look on his face that I'd love to slap off of him right now. This is not the time for him to say something funny because funnily enough, I do have my head in the toilet bowl.

Unexpectedly, Harry crouches down next to me and takes my hair into his hand, pulling it away from my face. His other hand begins to rub circles on my back, just like I did with him that one time in my office, just like my mother did with me.