Pure Feeling

taking chances

My hip ached from lying in one spot too long, and I wanted to roll over but my head was too heavy. I groaned as I forced myself onto my back, every inch of me protesting over the movement. "Never, ever again," I mumbled to myself.

"Should I remind you of that when you're looking for a bottle of rosé at dinner time?"

I opened my eyes, squinting at the light, shocked to see Harry sitting in my armchair. He looked dishevelled, not at all the put together man I knew. His shirt was undone, his ribbed vest keeping his abdomen covered, and his hair was a tangled mess. The circles under his eyes were dark, and he didn't look like he'd slept properly in a week. "It wasn't a dream?"

He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. "I'd put finding you in an alleyway about to blackout down as more of a nightmare than a dream."

"I didn't ask you to come," I snapped. I may have been legless and I may have been teary about missing Harry, but I knew I didn't call him. "Not my problem you stumbled across me."

Harry scoffed. "You think I stumbled across you?"

"Oh, sorry, of course not! You probably had your private investigator following me, and he rang when he saw I was in trouble."

"Olivia texted me, actually when she saw you dancing on top of a bar, guzzling a bottle of vodka." Harry grabbed the glass of water on my bedside table and held it out to me. I sat up and took the glass, taking a sip while Harry tipped two Panadol into his hand. "Take these."

I made a show of swallowing the pills, making Harry purse his lips and narrow his eyes at me. My dress from last night hanging on the back of my door caught my eye, and I frowned. "Did you put me in sleeping clothes?"

"No. By the time you were ready for bed you'd sobered up enough to make me wait outside while you got changed."

I found it hard to imagine Harry didn't rush me home and put me straight to bed. "By the time I was ready for bed? What happened last night?"

Harry sighed loudly. "After I found you, I put you in the car and drove you home. You woke up halfway through the drive and for a second..." Harry's face contorted, his fists clenched, "I think you thought I was him because you started screaming and trying to get out of the car. I had to pull over on the side of the road so I could... Fuck."

Images of Harry holding me on the side of the road while I sobbed into his chest flashed through my mind. I didn't remember waking up, but I remembered the distress in the alley when I heard footsteps behind me, the gripping fear that Drew had managed to find me when I was drunk and vulnerable to his attack.

"When you finally calmed down, your fear turned into anger, and, well, to put it lightly, you told me exactly how you felt about me, Miss Ginsberg." He laughed darkly, not really finding any humour in the memories from last night. "Sociopathic maniac with a giant dick was the nicest you got. The best insults were in Russian. You were very offended when I laughed at being called a walrus dick."

"Of course you speak Russian."

"Not fluently, but enough to know every insult you threw my way. Anyway, the point is you were angry at me, and you changed your own clothes because I didn't deserve to see you naked."

"Good to know I had my wits about me even when I was drunk." He was still standing over my bed, and I flicked my wrist, waving him back. "You don't have to stick around. I'm sure Georgiana is waiting for you at home."

"I have no idea what G is doing," Harry said tersely. I shuffled back down in bed, wrapping the duvet around me. Cocooned in the blanket, I felt protected from the strained connection between Harry and I. "I left her at the party last night after I spoke with you."