Hollow (Harry Styles) #Wattys2016

Chapter 98

Songs:

More Than Words: Extreme

I Heard It Through The Grapevine: Marvin Gaye

California King Bed/ Fading: Rihanna

What Do You Mean?- Acoustic: Justin Bieber

A.J.'s POV

I woke up with a slight headache, annoyed with the sunlight that leaked through the damn curtains. God, I hated hangovers. I laid there for a few moments, taking in my surroundings, reminding myself that I wasn't home, reminding myself of why I wasn't.

I groaned, sitting up straight in bed, ignoring the headache as I got out of bed, quickly making it before heading out. I stumbled slightly, rubbing my head as I made my way to the kitchen.

"Morning, love," a cheerful voice rang through my ears.

"Eww, you're so loud," I complained.

He chuckled, raising his mug and a pot of coffee, silently asking if I wanted some. I nodded, taking a seat on one of the stools at the island. He took the seat next to me, handing me a mug full of coffee and aspirin while he sipped his.

"How'd you sleep," his voice boomed.

I made a face, shoving him away. "How the hell are you so cheerful? Aren't you hungover or something?" I took both pills, allowing the coffee to help them ease down.

He laughed, loudly, shaking his head. "I'm used to it, plus, I didn't have too much to drink last night so I'm fine."

I groaned. "I need to get home."

"Are you sure you're ready for that?"

I shrugged, not wanting to deal with anything to do with, Harry. I took a long sip of coffee, trying to drown out everything, Louis was saying, that fucking jabber mouth. He went on and on about breakfast and other crap, I just waved him off, letting him do whatever he wanted.

"I should really get going," I mumbled as I chewed on my toast.

He nodded with a little shrug. "Probably, I can drive you if you'd like?"

"I'll be fine," I assured him. "I'll uh, bring, Lottie's clothes back after I wash them and stuff," I got up from the stool, putting our dirty dishes in the sink.

"It's fine, she won't even notice they're gone," he smiled. "Here, take my sweater, it's a bit cold this morning," he shrugged off his sweater, handing it over to me.

I hesitated in taking it, but he just shoved it in my hands. I rolled my eyes at him, offering him a quick thank you before I put it on. "It stinks," I complained, inhaling the distinct smell of cigarette.

"You're so prissy," he scoffed.

"Am not, I just don't like the smell of cigarette."

"You're lucky I like you, Sloan, otherwise I'd send your ass out in the cold without a fucking sweater."

"No you wouldn't, you're too nice."

"Yes, I am a saint."

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to comment on his misrepresentation of himself. I left him to gather my things and made my way back to him. I thanked him for everything, again before he handed me my keys and I took off.

I didn't want to go home, but I knew I had to sooner or later. I still didn't know what I was going to say to, Harry or how I was going to deal with this situation. Honestly, I sort of doubted that he was even home. If he decided to show up last night, he probably left early this morning to avoid having to deal with me.