Ensuing Apocalyptic ➸ C.G.

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

(A/n its was ma birthday it was ma birthday i didn't spend ma moneyyyy)

Sophie's POV

I woke up with a booming headache in a bed. I sat up slowly and looked around.

With a hand on my thumping head, I began to panic, realising that I wasn't in my room. "Oh...God." I said, realising that the vile dress was no longer on my body- just underwear.

I pulled the sheets over me, feeling a chill run down my spine. As I settled myself, I kicked my foot into something. A leg.

I pulled the covers down, revealing a sleeping body. It was the guy from last night. Harvey.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. No. Please say I...we didn't...

A sudden rush of guilt flooded through me.

He was breathing softly into his pillow, his back muscles moving as he intook air.
I could see the waistband of his boxers around his hips.

I jumped out of the bed and searched around for the dress. I became incredibly stressed when it was nowhere to be seen, and my head pounded every time I moved it.

I leaned against the wall, and exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry, Carl, baby. I'm so so so sorry." I whispered, trying to rid myself of the guilt.

I saw Harvey moving about in his bed. I stayed glued to the wall, unsure whether to move or not.

He began to stir, and eventually sat up, running his hand through his bed hair, and rubbing his eyes with the other.

He saw me, and smiled in my direction whilst I remained embarrassed and wide eyed.

He noticed I seemed troubled and almost jumped off of the bed, rushing over to me, as tears began to flow from my eyes.

"Sophie, hey what's wrong."

"I...I didn't want to do...that." I spluttered, pointing to the bed. "I was drunk...I didn't know what I was do-" He put his hands on my shoulders, making me stop talking.

"Hey hey hey. No! We didn't do that. I promise. I would never do it without some sorta sober consent. I...I just don't know where your room is. So...well...its a big bed, and there's plenty of room, so I took you here to sleep."

Still half crying, I asked him another question. "Wh...where's my dress...why am I..like this?"

"When you fell and hit your head, the dress ripped on the bar stool. It was falling off and the zipper was digging into your back. I took it off...God. I...I didn't mean to scare you...I just...Sorry." He said, rubbing his hands down my arms, in an attempt to calm me down.

I stared down to my toes, unsure of how to reply. His pale, tall and toned frame towered over my short figure, and I felt...suprisingly...sort of protected.

"Look...I...I can uh lend you a t-shirt if you want. Go and clean your face in the bathroom, and then I'll take you back to your room." I nodded, feeling calmer.

He walked over to his closet and chucked me a plain black shirt, which I caught.

I turned around and opened the bathroom door, walking inside and locking it behind me. Weird weird weird...I guess he's okay. I looked in the mirror.

"Oh...God." I muttered, looking at my face, smudged in makeup. I picked up the wash cloth from the side of the sink and held it under the running tap.

I began wiping it on my face, cleaning the crusty mascara off from under my eyes.

Once all of the makeup was off I sighed.
I threw the t-shirt over me, and it went halfway down my thighs.