Dispirited (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 6

My alarm clock was a bitch, I woke up every morning to the same damn ring tone and it irritated the fucking hell out of me. Marimba was the name. I regret getting an iPhone, all the ringtones I used got old and made me want to rip my fucking hair out and feed it to Britney Spears. I don't think I realized how messed in the head I really was, I'm hoping it's contagious. It'd be quite the sight to see if people acted as me for a day. This world would never be the same.

A pounding headache made its way into my head from the memories of last night. All I could recall was flashing lights and drinking, though I know I wasn't at a party. I was fucking with people enough to make them beg for mercy with my best mate Abel. A tall, dark skinned man with muscles bulging out of every inch of his damn body. I wondered how he could stay so fit with such a 'healthy' diet which consisted of chocolate donuts and take out every night. He was the second biggest slut I've ever met. The first of course had to be Daniel, who never slept alone in his bed or had sexual problems which would end up with him in a cold shower.

Abel was the only person in this world who I could proudly say looked like a true God without looking like a fucking druggy high on meth. He truly did though, his blueish grey eyes really blended well with his acne free dark skin. His parents were both Jamaican and he was born here in UK. Similar to my parents, sort of. My mom was African American but my sorry excuse of a father was British and I guess I had gotten my accent from him. My tone was kind of like a tan, though looked more natural than it would on anyone else that was actually trying. Hell, it's a tan all the fake blondes would fucking kill for.

I got so used to hearing British accents since I was born here, now I struggle to imitate an American one. Abel claims I sound like a desperate gold digger that has balls shoved down her fucking throat. I would say it was hot cause I'm a sarcastic bitch that doesn't know when to stop, but truthfully that would not be appealing at all.

"No," Abel gasped, reaching to clutch his chest as if in pain. We were so drunk, we couldn't walk up the stairs without one of us falling back down. The closest room happened to be mine and Abel made it his home for the night. "I don't wanna get up," he groans, throwing his arm around my waist and nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck. "Fucking shit Atty, just fuck."

"Real words please, get up and make breakfast bitch." I smiled before kissing his forehead and shoving him away. My face was stuffed into my fluffy pillows to stifle my laughter as Abel fell off the bed from my force and took the lamp with him in panic.

He looked at me in amazement, nudging his head toward his feet which somehow remained on the edge of my bed while his ass was in the floor. I burst into laughter, my body squirming uncontrollably as I rolled onto his feet. "Fuck Ab, you crazy fucker. How'd you do that?" I exclaimed. That was fucking amazing, just unbelievable. I was ready to make him audition for Americas Got Talent.

"That's just how I roll," the grey eyed boy winked, his hands holding his body up while his feet were planted onto the bed and he started thrusting in the air.

"Ew, not attractive Abel," I scoffed.

"You like it though,"

"Your thrusts are sloppy,"

"We haven't even fucked yet!"

"Nor will we ever,"

The sound of my room door opening cause us to stop our banter. There stood Sidra. A scowl on her face as she realized neither of us were up and ready to go on with our day. "You're late for work, get your pretty ass up and eat." She demanded.

I turned to glare at her. "Don't tell me what to do. And you made me breakfast right? Lunch as well I hope?"

"I always do," she showed off. "I need your car for later, so I'm just gonna drop you." Sidra looks at me with pleading eyes, pouted lips before she bites her lip to hold back her smile.