in which joelle d'amore is completing her final semester of university in the grand city of los angeles, california. when she finds herself in the presence of harry styles, a piercing man with dangerous agendas, she is permeated with fear. she saw s...
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Harry's euphoric high had been short-lived. After flushing down the cocaine like he insisted me to, it didn't take long for him to calm down. However, he grew uncomfortable. I could tell how bothered he was as the toxins were passing through his system. While helping me clean up the mess he had made, I kept quiet mostly, not wanting to say or doing anything that would make him snap. His body had gone through enough already, so I figured it was best to move in silence.
He fell asleep after a shower by the end of the night. As morning came around, I was the first one up. I didn't sleep particularly well again. With another night of tossing and turning, it was sunrise before I knew it.
He continues to sleep right next to me. I watch him for a moment as he's positioned on his side. Light snores escape him as he hugs a pillow to his chest; I wonder what it's like to feel his warmth. I break my gaze from his sleeping state and I carefully slip out from bed to get ready for my day—one I don't have planned. With the past few days being far from my usual routine, I hardly know what to expect anymore.
I spent my entire morning organizing my clothes like I had planned to do the day before. I bagged the clothes I no longer wished to keep so that I can drop them off at a donation center. Hopefully, when Harry wakes, he'll be willing to drive me to one.
Well into the afternoon, my stomach had growled from hunger. I hadn't eaten. Too afraid to leave the hotel room on my own, after being told I was being followed, I chose to wait. Eventually, Harry sat up from his long slumber. I turn to him, standing up from the floor where I had my stuff lied out.
He rubs his tired eyes and heaves a bothered sigh. Finally, he looks at me with that familiar frown on his face.
"How'd you sleep?" I ask him, staying in place.
He shrugs at my question then looks at the wall as he begins to stretch his arms out. As he stretched his tattooed arms over his head, he groans. Once his arms fall, he mumbles, "Still fucking tired."
Me, too.
I offer him a gentle smile. Taking one step forward, I then ask, "Are you good?"
He watches me then glances over at the cleaned-up area by the couch, where he had briefly broken down in front of me. He starts to nod to my surprise. "Yeah," he whispers then stands up. He tugs down at his boxers that had rolled up against his thighs. "What were you doing?" His eyes look at me then at the mess of my things by my feet.
"Oh, I was going through my clothes... There's a lot I want to get rid of. I was thinking-" I stop talking when Harry walks past me. He steps into the bathroom in the middle of what I was saying. I almost grow offended to think he didn't want to hear anymore.
"I'm listening... Keep talking," I then hear him assure. He hadn't shut the door. I gather that he's brushing his teeth when I hear the faucet run.
Oh. Walking closer towards the door of the bathroom, I continue, "I was thinking of donating the clothes I don't want anymore. I already have it prepared and ready to drop off. Do you think you could give me a ride to a nearby Salvation Army or something?"
