The Struggle •Unedited•

Chapter 37

•Elisabeth•

My eyes fluttered open slowly, squinting with the light seeping through the windows, as I awakened from a deep sleep. My body was slightly achy as I laid on the stone hard floor, wrapped in a black duvet. I glanced around, trying to remember how I left the club last night.

Where even am I?

I continue to move my eyes, trying to figure out where the hell am I. As I outstretch my arms, trying to turn on my back, my palm comes to an abrupt stop when it comes into contact with a stiff body.

Snatching the thick blanket off their upper body, I quickly come to realization that the person laying next to me is Harry. His lanky body was sprawled out on his stomach, his long locks falling down over his face and to the floor.

Gently shaking him, I try to wake him.

"Harry," I croak, continuing to shake him. Maybe he would know how the fuck we got here and where we are.

Within the next couple of seconds, I have no luck trying to wake my passed out best friend. Sleep is overtaking my heavy eyelids and my body slowly crashes down to the previous state it was in. Slowly but surely, darkness overtakes my vision.

***

With noise coming from all sides, the TV blasting, I awaken for the second time today. Hours must have passed due to the fact that the light coming from the windows looks much brighter. I sit up, my back gasping for relief from the hard floor. Again, I look down beside me, seeing that Harry has only shifted a few inches.

"Harry," I snarl loudly, shaking him in attempt to wake him. 

But all I receive is a grumble in return.

I glance around the parameter, this time, I begin to recognize my surroundings  - Niall's house.

"Heyyyyy," Niall chimes in, as he waltzes into the living room with the tiny toddler, "How you feelin'?"

I look up at him from the floor, with a slight smile, "Surprisingly not too hungover. I just have a slight headache. Should go away with some aspirin."

"What about Harry there?" he chuckles.

"I dunno," I look down at him, "Harold!" I shout, smacking a heavy hand down on his back.

His noodle like body moves as inaudible groans leave his mouth. It takes him a minute to gather himself together and once he does, his tall torso lifts itself up from the floor.

Niall and I laugh at the sight in front of us. His hair is in a matted mess as the shirt he was wearing from last night is wrinkled and the top buttons are popped open. Those usually bright green eyes are dropped and slightly blood shot. It's been a hell of a long time since I've seen him like this.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Niall hollers.

"Argh," Harry moans, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, "Dude, stop. Please."

I laugh and snatch the duvet off his lengthy legs, using it to wrap myself in it. If Harry looked awful, I could only imagine how I look.

A toddler's laugh interrupts our conversation and with the sight of Mason watching TV, chowing down on a bowl of cereal, I can't help of think of his father.

"Where's Louis?" I ask, glancing back up at Niall.

"He's been in the bathroom for a while now. Who knows what he's doing."

Just then, the young father waltzes out dressed in way better than his usual attire. A t-shirt lays under his dressy blazer, but the look remains causal with black jeans.