The Maid For Styles

Chapter 77

(sorry if some of the words look spaced out or are like cut off. wattpad is pulling some really fucking annoying shit rn and im gonna get to the bottom of it bc it looks fucking weird and i dont like it ew)

Chloe's POV

A hot shower had been the key to loosening my tight muscles and somewhat ceasing the throbbing in my forehead the alcohol I'd consumed the night earlier had caused. Within a thirty minute time frame, I could feel the steamy water working its way through any aches and tautness my body had dealt with during the first few minutes I'd awoken, and the headache I always seemed to regret the most the morning after, diminished to the point in which I could move an inch without feeling as though my head was to explode.

Liam and Niall had thrown their big bash the night before hand and it was no surprise that Niall had managed to make us all choke back numerous shots and glasses of mixed substances, to the point in which some of us couldn't form a coherent sentence or were unable to take two steps without toppling over, or leaning into someone else for support-one of which, had been me. I couldn't remember a shitload of what had happened, but I managed to string a few fuzzy images together and form a small idea of how the night went down. The one moment I remembered clearly was having Harry-whom at that stage wasn't smashed-come to my side with an expression of annoyance and clear jealously when a friend of Liam's from way back when attempted to dance with me. Of course, in my intoxicated state I had agreed instantly, but within seconds, Harry's hands were pulling me into him and his mouth was spitting out a mix of curse words that immediately made the culprit back off. The rest of the night was hazy, but I knew it hadn't been a waste of an evening.

Stepping back into Harry's bedroom, I was immediately hit with the strong stench of alcohol. I was certain it had been on my skin before my shower and I didn't sense it earlier, but in that moment I smelt fresh of coconuts, and the alcohol had become the only tangible thing in the room. Crinkling my nose, I took a look at Harry who had his legs spread across the entirety of the bed and a pillow that was supposed to be me, held tightly to his chest. It was a coincidence, really, that he'd awoken just as I'd silently walked into the room, and I made sure to prepare myself for his complaining, because I knew he would be blessed with a thumping headache, just as I had been.

"Nnugh."

Stifling my laughter, I padded softly over to the bed, gripping the towel that kept any parts of me unseen. As I sat down on the edge, Harry shifted his body closer to me and buried his head into the crevice between my thigh and stomach, groaning softly.

"Morning," I whispered, careful not to disturb the atrocious headache of his.

"Hmm," he acknowledged me, resting his arm on my thigh as the other wrapped around my towel clad hips.

"You feeling okay?" I already knew the answer.

"No." I felt him squeeze his eyes shut and his muscles tense as I rested my palm on the back of his head, but as quickly as he'd acted, his muscles eased and he revelled in my touch.

Lightly, I allowed my fingers to scratch his scalp, hoping to ease some of the discomfort his hangover delivered, but I could only do so much.

"Take a shower," I suggested. "You'll feel better."

"I don't wanna move," his hoarse voice cracked as he turned his head to rest his cheek on my thigh-his eyes squinting up at me, softly.

Smiling down at him, I watched as a smile of his own graced his dry lips. Even in such a state, he managed to be beautiful.

"Do you want me to get you some water then?" I questioned.

"No, just stay with me and stop talking. My head hurts."