Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 50.

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She tries her best, but it hurts her chest
And even though her sun is gone
She lights like a child nevertheless
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Harry Styles

Last thing I remember from last night is doing about 12 lines of coke in the bathroom with Louis because I needed something to replace the feeling I was missing, the feeling of Harlow. So how I got here, my own bed in my own house I'm not entirely sure.

I don't feel good at all, my mouth is so fucking dry and I could use about three gallons of water right now. Although on my bedside table is a bottle of water and two painkillers sitting there, meaning somebody must have taken me here.

It definitely wasn't Louis because he was also absolutely fucked, couldn't have been Niall or Zayn because they would have poisoned me, not give me painkillers so maybe it was Liam. He does live next door after all.

I hope I didn't tell him about what me and Harlow got up to, I know she's not the most confident about herself when it comes to that stuff so I really am hoping I didn't go bragging about it.

For someone who doesn't do well with intimacy, she did a fucking great job last night. It felt like my soul left my body, I thought I was going to fucking pass out with how good it was. I'd say I could never sleep with another woman in my life, but I don't want to do that anyway. I'm so infatuated with that woman it's scary.

I remember us catching eyes once we returned to the club, unable to keep the smirk off of our faces each time we caught eyes. I'm pretty sure her friend knew something was up, but I thought it was funny seeing Harlow try to pretend nothing went on. She might be a little devil between the sheets, but she's an angel in real life, an innocent little angel.

I am fucking starving.

I throw the two painkillers down my throat and flush them down with half the bottle of water, then decide to get up from bed and make myself something to eat so I can return to bed and watch shit on tv or write another song because I have plenty of song inspiration right now.

When I get downstairs I realise I'm either going blind, or there's somebody with brown hair lying on my couch.

Please tell me I didn't sleep with someone else last night. Please, please, please.

I wouldn't, would I? I'm so fucking obsessed with Harlow I don't think I'd ever be able to look at another woman and want to sleep with her right now especially after last night. So who the fuck is on my couch and why the fuck are they here?

Okay, maybe I'm sleepwalking, because it looks a lot like the mystery woman on my couch is none other than Miss Harlow Dean.

How the fuck did she get here?

Did Liam really make her sleep on my fucking sofa?

If I rub my eyes any Harder I think I'll go blind. I'm positive that's her, it's the same dress, the same face, the same hair, that's definitely birdy. What the fuck is she doing here and why is she on my couch?

I crouch down in front of her, admiring her peaceful sleeping face for a second because how she looks so beautiful at 8 in the morning I don't know. Waking her is the last thing I want to do right now, but she can't be comfy like that, especially not in last night's clothes.

"Birdy? Why are you on my couch?" I ask, shaking her gentle in the hopes she'll wake up.

I don't fucking know how to do this, usually when I'm waking women up it's to ask them to leave, not to ask them to come to bed with me. Maybe I should speak french to her, that might wake her up.