Notorious

Revelation

My aching head is slow to process much of anything as my eyes are welcomed by the blinding sunlight filtering through my curtains. But, I do manage to process three things:

1. I fucked up big time.

2. I am not alone.

3. I am never drinking again.

The dip in the mattress alone is enough to tell me the second fact, but it's the warmth and familiar cologne I smell that brings back a flood of hazy memories. What's even more disconcerting, are the lapses in between those memories that remain blank.

Ignoring the fact that my throat is as dry as the Sahara and the drumming in my head with each movement, I turn around to confirm what I have already gathered.

There, a white sheet barely covering his tanned and naked flesh, is a snoring Louis.

"Oh, fuck."

I quickly look down at myself in realization that, I am too, very much naked. My dress is crumbled at the foot of the bed, Louis' pants are in the doorway next to my heels and my bra is flung onto a lamp. I begin to panic at my lack of memory.

All I can drudge up are hazy memories of grabby hands in a cab and smudged lipstick. It was fumbling down my hallway, sneaking kisses, and trying not to laugh as Louis fell up the stairs in a failed attempt to slip his hand up my dress. Then it was unzipping and searching tongues and more touching and loud moans leading into the bedroom.

And then it was... Blank.

And I suddenly feel sick.

I pop out of bed with the sheet wrapped around my body –ignoring Louis' now bare bum- and sprinting towards the bathroom just in time. Alcohol does not taste as good the second time around.

The only thing I can think of is how much I regret dialing Louis. Because, yes, last night was fun and, yes, it felt nice to feel wanted and doted on. But, that's the thing –Louis didn't really want me. He wanted what I could offer him. Just like Harry.

Oh god, Harry.

And then I'm retching again into my porcelain throne. This time, when I empty my stomach, I feel a pair of familiar hands holding my snarled locks back.

"Please tell me we didn't sleep together?"

"First time I've heard that from a woman."

I groan as I wipe the corners of my lips with the sheet, "Lou."

He sighs exasperatedly from behind me and I turn around to face him, but instead come face-to-face with little Louis. I instantly shield my eyes and groan in annoyance at Louis, but mostly at myself.

"Jesus, Louis. Put on some pants."

"Again, first time hearing that."

Tired of him skirting around my question, I swing my fist back and make it look as if I am about to take a shot at his goods. This makes him instantly back away, cupping himself, with a horrified expression.

"No, you violent woman. We didn't have sex," I instantly sigh in relief, which makes Louis scowl immediately, "Don't sound too relieved because we might not have fucked, but we did plenty else. You were insatiable last night –that is, until you fell asleep before we could get to the good stuff."

And then it comes back in flashes: Me dropping to my knees as soon as we get into my room in front of a very eager Louis, who later reciprocates with his head between my thighs and my fingers clawing his hair.

My skin flushes at the memories and I tighten the sheet around me, "Don't bother covering up, babe. You and I both know I practically have your body memorized." Louis shouts, smirk lighting up his face as he makes his way out of the bathroom. The snarl that slips form my lips only makes him chuckle.