Reality

Mr. Nice Guy

Harry

Never again will I have that much tequila, or any at all.

I don't think I've been this sick before. I feel as if I'm going to die, and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if I did. At this point, I want to.

"How's it going in there?" Zayn calls out from our room, not even bothering to take a peek inside the bathroom.

"Better," Brooke answers for me, running her hands through my hair to pull it out of my face.

Let me add to my previous statement ... I don't think I've been this sick before, and I definitely have never been this embarrassed.

Here I am, sitting on the floor of my bathroom, vomiting everything in my system, and being taken care of by a girl I actually have an interest in. How does one pick themselves up from this position?

I'm not even wearing a shirt! I'm half naked, and under any other circumstance, I don't think I'd have a problem with it. But right now, in this moment, I feel the need to cover myself up.

This is probably the lowest point I can get, at least I hope it is, so I suppose the only way from here is up. I'm not sure there's much I can do to recover from this mortifying situation, so for the time being, I'm trying to deal with it.

My entire body is exhausted, my head is pounding, and it's extremely difficult for me to keep my eyes open. This will most certainly be the last time I ever have a hangover. I refuse to allow myself to do this again.

"Are you alright?" Brooke asks, combing her fingers through my hair once more.

The two of us are on the floor of my bathroom, and despite my several protests for her to leave me alone and not come inside, she sits against the wall across from the toilet. I'm sitting between her legs, leaning back against her with my head resting on her shoulder. The entire time we've been sitting in this way, aside from the times my face was in the toilet, Brooke has basically been holding me.

Not that I'm complaining about being close to her, I just feel quite emasculated.

"I'm managing," I groan, keeping my eyes closed. "My head is killing me."

"Yeah, that happens," she quietly laughs, her arms slowly moving to wrap around my chest. I think she can feel how much my heart is beating, and that's making me a little nervous. "Are you in any state to eat?"

"I don't think so," I shake my head. Slowly opening my eyes and squinting at the bathroom light, I look up to see Brooke watching me with concern. "How long does this last?"

"Just about the day," her fingers sweep through my hair again, causing me to close my eyes. "Depends what you do. You should drink a lot of water, though. And take some Advil."

"I just want to lay in bed all day."

"I would love to do that, too," she laughs, and for a brief moment my heart beat quickens as hope settles in that she would just want to hang out in my room all day to do nothing. "But I feel like I should explore the city or just go out for fresh air."

My body slumps more onto Brooke as I sigh, keeping my eyes closed. I don't want her to see the disappointment behind them, "I'll be in bed all day, so have fun in the sun."

It's quiet for a moment, just the two of us sitting on the bathroom floor. I'm concentrating on slowly breathing in and out, trying my best to keep from wanting to vomit once more. The comfort I feel from Brooke's embrace is the only thing keeping my headache at ease, as ridiculous as it sounds.

Is it possible that, after only knowing this girl for just about three days, I could feel this drawn to her? I mean, I haven't had any real, sober one-on-one time with her. How could I want to be around her this much?