Hey guys! I'm honestly REALLY sorry I haven't updated in like what... 3 FRIGGIN MONTHS?! I've been so busy and I felt like nobody was reading but yep somehow I took time to write this and put it up so enjoy(:
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Did I seriously just wake up in Harry Styles bed?! Really!? How could I come to this?! I'm no creepy 50 year old cougar or an obsessed fan or a depressed desperate middle aged woman who sucks the youth out of young boys for my own personal gain. Yeah okay definitely not THAT. Back to the topic. I need to get out of here before anyone sees me! Especially Harry. God knows what thoughts will be running through his head. Poor kid. I'm probably being a tease in his eyes. I was just drunk. Alcohol does crazy things to people, you know.
Silently removing his toned arms protectively wrapped around me, I got out of his bed and attempted to get out of this disaster waiting to happen. Something stopped me though. I don't know what it was, but I just had to turn around to look at what the world I had gotten myself into. Harry was shirtless. I like that. I mean because of body heat. I can get cold at night. And his hair looked perfectly messy. Fun to play with and run fingers through. I should just get out of here before I do something like crawl back into bed and go back to sleep like I should be doing. He just looked so peaceful, so content. I turned to leave when I heard a soft rustle. “God Harry if you seriously get up I will axe murder you in your sleep.” I thought to myself, silently cursing under my breath. “Ali, is that you?”. Wow his morning voice is hot. I got into awkward mode and tried to muster up a lie. “No my names Rebecca!” I tried to raise my voice to sound like a dumb bimbo. “Okay it may be early but I'm not stupid. Hi Ali.” And boom. Cover blown. “Hi Harry. You should just go back to sleep and forget that any of this happened, okay? Okay,” I sing-songed as I pulled the covers back up for him and patted his head, praying that he would do as I asked. Selfish? Yeah I know. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, right? “No gimme a minute, I'm gonna drive you home.” He got up and started to pull some jeans on. I slept with a guy who had no pants on. There's a first for everything I guess.
“Ready to go, Ali?” he said excitedly. “It's six a.m. Stop being so happy, Styles. And I can just get a cab you should go to sleep.” “No it's just fine!” His cheerful-ness made me sick. Blech.
He strolled outside while I sluggishly tagged along. Little did we know, a mob of paparazzi would storm us immediately outside. He took it lightly. I, on the other hand, wasn't used to the flashing bright light flooding my eyes. People in my face screaming questions about if we did anything last night. I tried to choke out a 'No' but nothing came out of my mouth. Everything became blurry. I had clausterphobia but only close friends new. I stared up at Harry who seemed worried about the state I was in. His hand was on the small of my back as he yelled at the persistent photographers. I just wish they would get out of my face and let me breathe. “Can't you see she has a problem with this!? Get the f*ck out of our way so she can get some air!” The startled paparazzi were shocked and started to back off while taking their last shots. Then they scurried away to deliver the pictures back to the press. I stared back up at Harry's enraged but concerned face and then saw nothing but black.
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I woke up in a bed. This time it was mine. Phew. I was back in my flat. I had this crazy dream about how I woke up in Harry's flat and we got mobbed by the paparazzi and I fainted but nah just a dream. I smelt... tacos? Yeah tacos. And it was 7 at night. I mean I like to sleep in but that's a little crazy. Last night was a blur. All I remember was the club.
I walked down the hallway to see who or what was making tacos. It was Harry. Why was Harry in my flat making tacos like it was no big deal? But instead of explaining anything he just tackled me in a bear hug. “I'm so glad you're alright!” he exclaimed. “What's going on?! What happened? Why are you here?!” I screamed at him. “I'm trying to help you!” “Help me with what?! I don't need any help!” He somehow remained calm even though my yelling could've scared even the toughest of men. “You woke up in my flat because you were too drunk to be safe alone. Then I was going to take you home this morning but the paparazzi stormed us and you passed out so I just brought you back here and waited for you to wake up.” “Why would you wait for me?” “Because I care.” That was unexpected. I was already unstable but I might as well just pass out again. “Sorry. I just couldn't remember anything. Well I did I just thought the whole paparazzi thing was a dream. I'm not used to that kind of stuff yet.” Harry chuckled as if he already understood what I was going through, even though he didn't. “But how many pictures did they take?” “I'm not exactly sure but I'm really sorry about this but they're probably going to be in the tabloids tomorrow.” He didn't exactly seem to thrilled about this, and neither was I. No way in hell did I want to be seen with Harry Styles other than in a friend way. People are going to take this and blow it out of proportion. Fans will make up nicknames like 'Hali'. Okay that's kind of catchy. I'm not ready for any of this. And I don't know what the hell we're going to do about this, and apparently neither does Harry.
