The Accident. [h.s] completed

2.

The next morning I woke up with a pounding headache. I sat up and groaned. I opened my eyes and noticed I wasn't in my usual surroundings. What happened last night? I look to my right and saw a man with curly hair. I couldn't see his face clearly. Did I have sex with this man? I can't remember anything from last night. I quietly got out of the bed and grabbed my clothes.

I heard the man on the bed moving. Shit, he was waking up. I quickly put on my clothes, and walked towards the door of the large room.

"Where are you going?" I heard a deep British voice behind me.

"I have to go." I said not turning around. I didn't want to see who I had sex with. I was so ashamed.

"Wait!" I heard him getting out of the bed. "Can I have your number?"

I walked towards the kitchen, and turned around towards him. Shocked was all I was feeling. "Uh, did we have sex last night?" I can't believe out of all people I would wake up in Harry Styles' bed.

"You don't remember?" He said in a grouchy morning voice.

"No, not really." I replied.

"Well we met at the bar, and we talked for a while. Then I brought you back here."

"Oh." Was all I could say.

"So can I have your number? I had a great time last night." He smirked.

"Uh yeah sure." I handed him my phone, which I found on the kitchen counter.

He typed in his number. "Alright." He handed me my phone back. God, I wish I remembered last nights events.

"Alright I gotta go." I smiled slightly.

"Bye Emery."

"Bye Harry." I said walking to the front door.

"I'll never forget last night." He said from behind. I looked over my shoulder and saw that he was smirking. I turned my head then quickly left his house. I called an Uber to go to my apartment where I'm going to have to bitch the hell out of my boyfriend.

10 minutes later, I was dropped off in front of my building. I took the elevator up to the 5th floor, and went straight to my apartment, slamming open the front door. I walked to the room where Will, my boyfriend, was sound asleep.

"Get the hell up!" I yelled as I took the covers off of him.

He look up at me. "What the hell! I was sleeping!"

"I don't care! Get your stuff and get the fuck out of this apartment! I'm so done with you!"

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I was drunk. It was only a one time thing, I swear!"

I laughed. "Do you think I give a fuck? I want you out of here and out of my life!"

He quickly got up not saying a word. I went to the closet and took out his suitcase, and threw it at him. I was outraged. I was no longer sad or depressed, I just wanted him out. I went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. I waited 20 minutes until he was out of the bedroom with a full suitcase.

"Please Emery..." He pleaded.

"Out." Was all I said, and he listened and left the apartment.

I couldn't even cry anymore. I don't even think that I actually loved the guy. I always told him that I did, but the chemistry wasn't there. I feel like I deserved much better. He would always come home late, raincheck our dates, and boss me around. I was so done with all of his bullshit. I felt so relieved and free now that he's gone. Now I could do what I want when I want.