My head throbbed like I had been hit by a bus. I blinked and reluctantly opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the harsh lighting of the hotel room I had barely spent any time in. The impromptu trip to the club that my best friend and I had planned suddenly seemed like the worst idea ever, as my heart still hurt from the recent out-of-nowhere breakup with my boyfriend and my body ached from the alcohol I'd used to block it out. As I rolled over on the queen sized mattress, my eyes flew wide open. There lay a shirtless, toned Harry Styles. I knew all about him, how could I let myself get so deep with a guy like this!? I leaned closer and saw tiny hickeys peppered up and down his neck and chest, and what looked like fingernails marks starting on his upper back. My heart flew into your throat. Did I do that? I asked myself. I slowly and silently slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, checking in the mirror and confirming that I too had hickeys spotting my neck and chest, and even some on my inner thighs. I ducked back into the bedroom and saw that he was still there. My bag still sat in the corner of the room on the desk, only my makeup sitting beside it and my clothes from the night before tossed on the ground, along with his. I quickly slipped on some shorts and a t-shirt as I stepped outside to my balcony to call my friend. Of course it went directly to answering machine. Who knows what she did the night before. I left an urgent and frantic voicemail, racking my brain as to why she wasn’t in the room that you two were supposed to be sharing. Before I could hit end and turn to reenter the room, a hand tapped on my shoulder. I turned and shrieked, dropping my phone. The young man was now awake, eyes still small with drowsiness and wrapped in the bed’s blanket. “Is everything alright babe?” he asked, stroking back, his voice groggy.
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He’s up and shuffling around at a God awful hour, after hearing me rise. “Babe,” I groaned, and sat up. “What are you going?” He had his back to me, stripping off his sweat pants and shirt. His back muscles contracted with every movement, and his tattoos looked even more mysterious in the weak morning sunlight. I was so transfixed by his body that I barely heard him say, “Work day.” I pouted as he slid on a pair of jeans and a new shirt. I liked them better off. He came over and kissed the top of my head. “You’re such a tease,” I grumbled. He laughed, “You didn’t have to watch. But now you’ll have something to think about alllll day long.” He was still laughing as he left the room. “You better be back here early!” I called after him.
