when love lasts | wroetoshaw

fourteen

the early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft, tired shadows across the room. harry lay spread across the bed, his arm hanging off the edge, his face buried in a pillow. the faint smell of last nights alcohol still lingered in the air, mixing with the faintest hint of perfume and aftershave. a soft groan escaped my lips as i shifted, squinting to look at the clock. it read 11:47am, and my head was throbbing like someone was using a hammer on it. i slowly pulled the pillow from my face, wincing as the light seemed to stab right into my eyes.

beside me, harry stirred. his hair was a mess and he made a low, groggy sound before barely opening his eyes and sending me a half-amused, half-resentful look. "i hate you," i murmured, my voice rough from the night before.

"why, what have i done?" he asked, his voice thick with the aftereffects of too many shots and not enough water.

"you made me too many of those drinks," i said, my face crinkling up as if i could still taste the concoction he'd convinced me to try, "they tasted like regret in liquid form."

harry chuckled, even though the sound made his head spin, "it wasn't that bad. i mean, you were fine until we got to the pub."

i groaned and buried my face into the pillow, my body sinking further into the bed. "i'm never drinking again. i'm done. i swear."

"until the next time," harry teased softly.

the room was silent for a long moment, apart from the occasional sound of a sigh or a shuffle. neither of us seemed eager to get up or do anything. i rolled over onto my back, my head resting against harry's shoulder. he instinctively wrapped an arm around me, still trying to muster enough energy to form a coherent thought. "i think we need food," i said after a while, my voice slightly muffled from the duvet. "and water. lots of water."

"i think you're right.' harry agreed, though the thought of getting out of bed was less than appealing to the both of us.

"i'm not in the mood to order anything though," i said, my voice tinged with amusement as if i was speaking to a child. "could you make us a nice fry up or something?"

harry groaned dramatically, but he couldn't hide the smile forming in the corner of his mouth. "why are you trying to torture me?"

"i'm not, i just really fancy one," i replied, my tone light, "please."

harry let out a sigh. "alright, alright. i'm going," he muttered, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed. his legs wobbled beneath him as if they weren't quite sure how to support him yet, but he managed to stagger to the kitchen, immediately searching for the ingredients. i followed him, still in his t-shirt, looking equally as wrecked. i flopped down onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching him with a playful smile. the two of us sat down on the couch a little while later, a steaming plate of food in front of us.

i took a bite, my face softening as i chewed. "this, isn't terrible."

harry grinned, his eyes half-closed. "it's all about the love you put into it."

i raised an eyebrow, "and not setting the kitchen on fire."

"details," harry said, leaning back against the couch, his arm casually draped over my shoulders. "details."

and for the rest of the day, as the hangover slowly wore off and the world outside began to feel more tolerable, we stayed in that lazy, post-night out bubble, both of us secretly relieved to have each other to deal with the aftermath. it wasn't glamorous, it wasn't exciting. but it was our kind of perfect.

~

it was now a few days later and i was going to spend the day with the girls to plan faith's hen do. the sunlight peaked into the cozy cafe we were sat in as faith perched nervously on a chair, her engagement ring glinting in the light. around the table sat me, faith, talia, freya, and demi. the plan was simple - organise the most unforgettable hen party ever. but with this group of strong personalities, nothing was ever just simple.