Park Benches (EDITING)

thirteen

thirteen

 

Charlotte’s POV

           My nose wiggled, detecting the distant scent of fresh coffee. As I fully came to my senses the heavenly aroma got heavier, forcing me to open my eyes. Confused at my surroundings I rubbed my eyes, holding back a shriek.

           I was underneath a heavy navy blue duvet in a bed room that was not mine. I was wearing the same clothes as last night; the skirt hugged my thighs tighter than I wished. With a weary huff I lifted the blanket off me, leaning back against the wooden headboard.

           My eyes wandered around, taking in the surroundings; curious as to whom they belonged to. There was the usual scatted décor, which had a navy blue nautical theme, but a white dresser with picture frames rested directly in front of me.

           My legs kicked the rest of the sheet off me and bolted to the photos, grasping one firmly in my hands. At the transition my head throbbed, leaving me wondering how much I drank last night. For a moment they seemed useless, possibly just some default photographs, but blue eyes poked out at me.

           His hair was rather different and he was much younger, but I recognized him. “Louis,” the name slipped off my tongue barely a whisper, but as heavy as a heave. Without thinking I started to admire the young lad in the photograph, he was just so unlike current Louis. His usually bristly face was fresh and smooth; his normally dark feathered hair was lightly swooped, hanging just above his eyebrows. Pretty much everything was changed, except for his smile, which reminded me of a cute little bunny rabbit with the way his eyes widened, letting his beautiful blue eyes glow. I mean…what.

           I set down the photograph rather hastily, uneager to overlook the others. However, I did briefly stop to overlook myself in the mirror. My usual wavy blonde hair was a curly birds nest, my makeup was lightly smeared to the left, and there was a dark bruise on my collar bone, which worried me terribly. My fingers rose and lightly pressed against the sore mark; I winced, furiously removing my hand. Someone had done some serious damage, but I wasn’t sure who.

           My memory from last night was selective, but this was usual, I was not a light drinker. Everything was basically a blur for a little while before all the pieces slowly seeped into place, my least favorite part.

           Again, my nose wiggled, catching a warm whiff of coffee. My sore feet were already walking towards the door and towards the delectable smell. When my hand whipped open the door it got noticeably stronger.

           I had no problem maneuvering around the foreign house, all I had to do was walk straight then down the stairs. At the bottom of the steps a fancy kitchen met my eyes, along with a pants less blonde boy. “Hey, want some?” He asked nonchalantly before pouring me a cup, “I know you do.” He shoved the mug into my hands, spilling a little on my finger.

           “Um,” I brought the steaming liquid to my lips, taking a soothing sip, “thanks.” He watched my as I took in the beautiful kitchen and living room.

        “Little confused?” He began walking towards me, taking my hand, again before I could answer, “You don’t seem too scared or confused so I’m guessing you know where you are?”

           “Louis’s house,” I stated strongly as we sat on his couch, “I saw some photographs.”

           Niall nodded, obviously knowing what I was talking about, “Do you know what happened last night?” His eyes flickered to my collarbone, noticing the mark.