Harry Styles Imagines

Waking Up In Vegas

"Hey. Wake up." You nudge the completely naked boy in your bed till he begins to stir.

"Wake up faster!" You impatiently shout at him.

"Bloody hell. Keep it down, I have a headache." He says, his voice scratchy and deep.

You begin pacing the hotel floor. Shit. How could this be happening? You examine the ring on your finger. It's something that only someone with money would be able to afford.

You're not sure how you're going to tell the curly haired boy laying in the bed.
Do you just come out in the open and say it, or wait to tell him? No matter how you say it, it's going to sound awful. You begin a countdown in your head. 3. 2. 1.

"I think we're married." You blurt out after hitting 1.

This catches his attention. He quickly rolls over to his back and sits up in bed, his curly hair a rats nest. His bare chest is covered with tattoos that you can find meaningless.

"You think we're married?" He says, almost laughing. You simply nod your head.

"What!?" He questions, even though he obviously heard you.

You nod your head again, not wanting to repeat the words.

"Why do you think that?" He asks you, his voice slightly trembling. He gets up from the bed, looking for his clothes.

A nervous laugh escapes your lips as you cross the room to the small table that sits in the middle of the room. You grab the paper and walk it over to.... You can't remember his name. It just gets better and better, doesn't it?

"This is the marriage certificate we both signed last night." You announce.

You point out the signatures on the cream colored piece of paper. They're both nearly illegible, both obviously signed drunk. You place your hands above your head, anticipating his reaction.

He doesn't say anything for what seems like minutes, and instead stares at the piece of paper in his hand.

"Well fuck." He finally says.

You take a seat next to him on the bed.
For several moments the only sound in the room is the sound of the morning traffic. He opens his mouth a few times to speak, but quickly shuts it.

You nervously play with the new ring on your left hand.

"Well for starters, what's your name?" You ask him.

The question seems bizarre. You should know your husbands name before you marry him. You almost laugh at the thought, but then realize that none of this is funny.

His jaw hangs open momentarily, like he finds it a shock that I don't know his name.

"Harry Styles."