Time Share; A Haylor Fanfic

Chapter 7:

••A/N••

SORRY GUYS

I fell asleep last night after the AMAs (wow Taylor looked gorgeous) and tonight I had an absolutely horrible basketball game. One of the worst I've ever played and it's just been a long day. So sorry about that guys!

Brooke

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Chapter 7

My bags make a cushioning sigh as they collapse onto the tile floor of Harry and I's house bought by his father. It's not really a house, more like a mansion bigger than 5 of my parents houses. Why someone would need this big of a house is beyond me. I'm probably going to get lost going to the bathroom knowing me.

Harry sits relaxed on the sofa, feet kicked up, watching what looks to be a soccer game. He pays no mind to me as I enter except a momentary glance. "Where's my room?" I ask timidly, all around tired from the long day at the shop.

He looks over to where a stand, "Up the stairs to the right." He doesn't seem phased much, just annoyed that I'm interrupting his show. I nod slightly and begin to struggle my bags up the stairs, suddenly wishing Harry had his hired help in here like the wedding ceremony. Once I finally reach the landing, I take a right which leads to a room stocked with the aroma Harry carries with him. This is Harrys room.

Oh, i'll be darned if I'm sleeping in the same bed with that skank at night. I knew he'd pull something like this, I just knew it.

I march down the stairs, shouting Harrys name as I gallop the stairs two steps at a time. "Now, would you care to explain why you directed me to your room? In no case would I ever- ever- w..what are you doing?" I stumble as he suddenly stands and ventures closer.

"You do understand I made a mistake, it's two to the right," He starts, my back hitting the place where the walls come together. His curls touch my forehead slightly. "and, Taylor, I would never- ever, even touch you. Let alone sleep with you so I suggest you rethink my motives."

My lips part to piece together a response but before I have the chance he turns away. "Oh and if I had wanted to kiss you at the wedding, I would have." He plops down back on the couch as if nothing happened, droning in on the tv.

I exhale heavily and walk back up the stairs and into the room a door down from Harry. Harry made me feel like a complete idiot who gets people's motives wrong. Even if it is just in front of him, I take pride in my confidence but when he's around I feel like I've been humiliated in front of a whole audience.

The room is actually fantastic, the materials are made of the finest silk, the bed duvet is woven of red patterns. The pillows are arranged neatly with an excessive amount than needed. There's also a walk-in closet, a dresser and a small balcony that overviews the landscape. The canvass on the wall parallel to my bed captures my attention. The painting depicting an odd picture. There it shows a man, one half of him with devil horns reprimanding his family with a red, angry face and the other half of him hugging his family kindly, as if a loving father. I don't really get it but it's a beautiful piece of art, it looks made for the decorator.

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About midnight, a clattering sound wakes me up from the cozy sleep I had been enjoying. I'm curled into a ball, hugging on to a very long throw pillow, my leg swung over it. The clatter goes on for a few minutes as I try to decide to get up. The noise carrys until it's up the stairs and hitting the wall which belongs to Harry. A voice, I recognize as femine, joins into the noise and I take recollection of the situation. My cheeks glow red with anger for some odd reason I don't know. Is this... jealousy? No, no. Definitely not. Whatever this is, its awkward.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, tugging up the sheets with me and try to block out the pictures in my mind that keep reappearing from the sounds. Finally I reach the brink of my sleepiness and fall back into my dreamland.