Espresso

Chapter Ten

Harry

The golden haze of morning creeps in through the crack in the curtains as London rises for the day. Taxi horns blare outside of the window, the city quickly beginning to stir as life begins in the heart of the city. 

I rub my knuckles over my tired eyes, groaning as my back aches atop the lumpy sofa of my hotel room, the thin blanket draped over the carpet. I sit up and look towards my bed, Jet's hair fanned out on the pillow behind her as she sleeps, smudged mascara still shadowing her eyes, her brow creased as she dreams. I pick up my phone from the floor and check the time. I've only been asleep for a couple of hours and we've got a busy day ahead. 

I leave Jet to sleep as I take a quick shower, turning down the temperature in an attempt to wake myself up. I towel my body and hair dry before pulling on some grey jogging bottoms and a white t shirt. 

I hear a faint knock at the door and open it as I'm sliding into a pair of converse, noticing Preston stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, his lips pressed in a firm line. 

"Preston."

"Harry."

We look at each other awkwardly before I notice that he's left Jet's oversized suitcase next to the door. 

"She's still asleep but I'll make sure she gets in the shower and meet you in the lobby." 

He nods and leaves.

I can't make out what's clean or dirty in her suitcase so instead I pull her toiletry bag out and set it out on the counter in the bathroom next to a a black pair of joggers and a black hoody that I've recently had washed from my own laundry. 

I go back into the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed, gently shaking her shoulder. 

"Jet?"

Her eyes fly open and panic immediately sets in. 

"Where am I?"

"You're in my room."

She jumps. 

"No, no, it's okay, I slept over there," I point towards the dishevelled sofa, "I didn't want you going back to your room on your own."

She slowly nods. 

"We need to leave soon. I've put some clothes out in the bathroom for you, I'll meet you in the lobby for 9 okay?"

"Okay, thank you." 

I grab my suitcase and carry on bag and make my way out of the room, leaving her to scratch her hungover head in confusion as her sleepy state pieced last night's events together. 

When I emerge from the lift and step into the marble lobby, I'm greeted with burning eyes and wagging tongues that briefly come to a halt when they realise that the topic of their conversation has just joined the party. I sigh and make my way to a tartan armchair in the corner of the room, feeling unsteady on my feet as nausea washes over me and swirls last night's memories around in my head, leaving a dull ache in my temple. I sit on the chair and close my eyes, lulling my head back against the soft material. My eyes feel heavy and the room  spins, my head feeling heavy on its axis as the chatter continues and I hear my name being said in hushed tones. 

"You look rough," I hear a deep voice say and my eyes dart open to see Preston's round face smiling down at me. 

"Tequila shots and running around London at 4am in the rain will do that to a man." 

He takes a seat in the chair next to me, placing a bottle of water on the small, glass coffee table between us, "that's for you. Perk you up a bit before the flight, you look wrecked."