antidote | h.s.

22 - if anyone falls

harry styles

I could tell Ashton wasn't okay through her texts. 

And I guess I was right. 

I've never seen her this distraught, and it's breaking my heart to watch. I've lost count of how many drinks she's had, and something in me tells me she has too. I really don't know what to do to help other than stay by her side. 

She's not a partying drunk, that's for sure. I don't know what I was expecting an intoxicated Ashton to be like, but I think I would have been pleasantly surprised no matter what. 

She's very friendly, but also sleepy. I followed her to the living room not long after she downed two shots of something an made herself a drink. She plopped right down onto the couch and began complimenting another girl's outfit who was standing nearby. Sweet girl. 

That's basically been the routine for the past thirty minutes. We've been sat here on the sofa, Ashton practically chugging the drinks she keeps getting up to make, me watching her strike up conversations with complete strangers. Definitely night and day from sober Ashton. 

"You know who is such a nice person?" she speaks up next to me, and I turn to see her giddy smile. 

I'm just glad she's feeling better. Even if she had to get drunk to get here. 

"Who is, Love?" 

"Hank," she grins from ear to ear. 

"And why is that?" I push down my laughter, feeling bad because she's trying to be serious. 

"I don't know. He just is," and without missing a beat, "why are you so far away from me?" 

I can't hold it back anymore as I let out a cackle, looking down at the space between us on the couch while Ashton throws her arms up at it. I put both of my hands on her thigh closest to me, yanking on it to pull her and mesh our bodies together, our legs and shoulders pressed against one another. 

"Better?" 

She nods, scooting her body in, but any closer and she'll be on top of me. Her head falls backwards, resting on my shoulder, and her eyes roll back to look at me for just a split second before she squeezes them shut and winces, lifting her head with a hand to her eyes.

"Ouch," she whines. 

"What's wrong?" I jump to put a hand on her face, ready to examine whatever happened to her eyes. 

"My head hurts, and so," she takes a weird deep breath, opening her eyes and pouting her lip as she looks at me, "my eyes hurt when I move them like that." 

God, what is she doing to me?

"I'm sorry, Baby. Can I get you anything? Some water--"

"No!" she cuts me off quickly, making my eyes widen. 

"Okay, okay. No water right now," I add in the 'right now,' knowing I'm going to force some water down her throat at some point tonight. She sighs contently, turning her head back around to lean it back on my shoulder again, as I squeeze my arm between her and the couch, reaching it around to hug her to my side and plant my hand on the outside of her leg. 

"He's just such a good person, and he bought drinks that one time we went out," she says out of nowhere, and my eyebrows cinch together. 

"Who?" 

"Hank!" she spits out, probably trying to sound annoyed, but her slightly slurring and tipsy voice really didn't let her. 

"Oh, right, I'm sorry," I swallow my laughter, "yes, he likes to buy drinks whenever he comes out with us. He's a great person. Couldn't ask for anyone better to take care of Vi. She's had some shitty relationships in the past, and we've always looked out for each other, so I'm glad he's in her life now."