Carry On {A Harry Styles Love Story}

1.0 ; Wild Youth.

1.0 ; wild youth.

❝ we are the reckless,

we are the wild youth,

chasing visions of our futures. ❞

★ j e r s e y ☆

I needed to pee.

Not the kind of subtle urge where you’re just calmly like, “Excuse me, good sir, but would you be so kind as to direct me towards the nearest facilities? Oh, and lovely tie, by the way. Really brings out the color in your eyes.”

No, it was more like a “move, bitch, or be forced to face the wrath of my explosive bladder” kind of urge.

So it goes without saying that I wasn’t the happiest person in the world when I ran up to my hotel room, eager to relieve myself as soon as possible after standing in that wretched elevator for what felt like an eternity, only to find a notice taped to the door. Ripping it off, I scanned it, my heart sinking with every word. “We regret to inform you that a hazardous leak has been recently discovered in the plumbing on this floor. We are trying to take care of this problem as quickly and as efficiently as possible and estimate it will be fixed by Friday at the latest. Until the pipes can be repaired, all bathrooms in rooms 406-410 are temporarily out of service.” I mentally cursed whatever knob decided to check me into room 408 and wearily continued reading. “We ask you to instead use the restrooms located in the lobby and on Floors 3 and 6 for the time being. If this is unsatisfactory, please feel free to request a room change in the lobby, free of charge. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this has caused. Please accept our complimentary room service during the remainder of your stay here.” Fucking screw your complimentary room service, I needed to pee. Now.

I knew I shouldn’t have gone for that second bottle of water. But did I listen to myself? No, and look where that got me: standing helplessly in front of my hotel room with my thighs squeezed firmly together to prevent myself from pissing my pants. Great end to an already shabby day.

My eyes flitting up and down the hallway, I acknowledged the same stupid notice posted on every door from Room 406 to 410, just like the paper said. However, the doors on the other side of the hallway were wonderfully bare...

Seeing no other option in sight, I rigidly crossed the hall to the room directly across from mine and rapped my knuckles loudly against the door. After clearing my throat of the lump lodged in it, I brazenly called out, “Room service!”

Oh, God, was I really doing this?

Yes. Yes, I was.

I heard some noises on the other side of the door, followed by a muffled British voice saying, “Niall, did you order something?” I was a bit thrown off by the foreign accent, but pushed the thought away for the time being.

Both my bladder and I becoming increasingly impatient, I knocked on the door again and announced louder, “Room service!”

In just a couple agonizing moments, the latch was being undone and the door was cracked open slightly. I barely had time to hear the same male voice say, “Sorry, but we didn’t order any—,” before I quite violently shoved the door open the rest of the way and shot through the narrow space, pushing past the brown-haired boy. I didn’t bother taking more than a single glance at him, solely focused on reaching my destination.

I was a girl on a mission.

The room’s layout was the exact same as mine; to my right was a kitchenette that opened into a small living room and a few meters in front of me was the door that led to the bedroom. Since I was familiar with the setting, I had zero trouble finding the bathroom as quickly as possible, turning to the door on my left. Some blonde boy was just exiting it as I rushed in, rudely pushing him out of my way. Once I was inside the restroom, I locked the door and immediately went to do my business, almost crying at the sheer relief I felt.