When Harry Met Hannah

Chapter Nine: Harry

Harry woke up in a fog. His mouth was dry and gritty. He could taste stale smoke when he swallowed and it made him feel sick to his stomach. The sun shone brightly through the glass wall of his flat causing a stab of pain to shoot like lightning through his brain. Closing his eyes once more he rested his head against his goose down pillow. Last night had been worth the headache, he thought. He and his mate had gone out last night to a club in L.A. The music had been hot and the women even hotter. Harry had drank himself blond last night, and though he couldn't remember how he got home, he knew he had enjoyed the ride. Harty's phone buzzed on his ebony oak nightstand and he chanced a glance at it. Chelley was texting him a reminder of the meeting he had in less than an hour with that Martin chick. Harry scrubbed his hand over his face and sat up in the bed. As he did, a slender arm fell from his chest and hit the mattress. Harry glanced over beside him. He had no clue who the girl that was in bed with him was. She could be pretty, he thought, but her hair and makeup were both ruined. Dark smears of mascara and eyeliner smudged the white of his pillowcase earning a sneer of disgust from Harry. As he swung his legs over the end of the bed he stood and stretch which cause his stomach to lurch.
"Damn." He muttered as he made his way around the bed towards the loo.
"Hey there," the girl murmured. Harry looked back to see her sitting up in the bed in what Harry assumed she thought was a sexy position, but it only managed to turn him off further. Harry kicked her knickers over to her,
"Get dressed. I've a meeting in a few." He said as he made his way into the loo for a hot shower.
The girl pushed her mouth into the perfect pout, "But I thought we could,"
"We can't." Harry muttered as he slammed the door to the bathroom and cranked the shower to as hot as it would go.
"Fuck." He groused as the scalding water stung his skin. He stuck his head into the spray and let the water weave through his hair and massage away his headache. Harry continued to stand under the heat as water coursed over his flesh and ran down his back and legs,  washing away the grime of last night's pursuit. Easy women made for a fun night in the sack, but nothing more than that. He knew he would never speak to the girl in his bed after today unless they happened to run into each other again, and even with that she would still be an easy lay. Harry reach for the wash that sat in how shower caddy and squeezed some into his hands. As he scrubbed his arms and torso all he could think about was this afternoon's meeting with the Martin girl. He has purposely sent her that text last night before he left to rattle her and the fact that she hadn't responded meant he had done just that. He made her nervous, he knew he did, and a part of him thrilled at the idea that he had that kind of power over her. He was interested to see just how far he could push her today. He told Chelley that he would meet them at the office at one. He intentionally had wanted to give Chelley time to go over the confidentiality agreement before he arrived. Chelley had a way of getting people to agree to whatever he needed them to agree to and if he knew Hannah she was going to argue his terms. Harry rinsed the soap from his skin, shut the water off and stepped out of his shower. As he made his way out into his bedroom, he could see that the female who had previously occupied his bed had left leaving no traces behind. He wrapped a plush towel around his waist and made his way over to an ebony dresser that matched his nightstand. The furniture was cool and sleek, and had a modern design to it. Harry like modern furniture. He appreciated the clean lines and the sense of order it brought to a room. Organization was key in his hectic life. He removed a black t-shirt and a pair of black boxers from his drawers and slipped them on. Returning to the other side of his room he entered his long walk in closet. The cabinets were slick and glossy and the woods were all stained dark as those in his bedroom. He liked dark colors, they seemed to match his soul perfectly. Harry pulled a pair of dark pants off one of the hangers and slipped them on. He shot a glance towards the full length mirror. He looked like hell. There were dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and his skin was paler than usual. Stress did not look well on him. He'd even lost a little weight in the last few months due to the strain of Zayn leaving and Harry having to sing his parts. Between rehearsals, press meetings, fan meet and greets, and concerts he was worn down. His life held none of the joy it did a few years show when he started on this journey. As he slipped his socks and shoes over his feet he thought about what Liam had said to him a few days ago. He said he seemed as though Harry was desperate to die from overdosing on partying. Harry snorted to himself. Maybe Liam was right. All he knew is that when he looked into the mirror, all he saw was darkness looking back.