Hannah POV
My eyes felt heavy as I pried them open; the rays of sunlight hitting my pupils like fire. I squinted, rubbing at them harshly. Slowly, bringing myself to sit upwards, I noticed that I was in Harry's bed....- alone. The clock to left read "1:42pm", I blinked slowly, gathering what had happened.
And that's when the pounding in my head and stomach began- the pain searing through my body as I stumbled to the ground.
The alcohol, I realized.
What the fuck had I done?
"Haaaarrry-" I shouted, lying on the floor in pain.
No one came.
Maybe he had left, I hoped. Being slightly too optimistic.
I slowly pulled myself from the ground, my arms weak and my legs wobbling. I saw the discarded bottle of Jack Daniels, lying empty in the corner. Walking out of the room, down the corridor, and into the kitchen I squinted my eyes against the sun as if it was poison.
But too my brain, it really did feel like it.
Turning slowly around, I flinched as I saw Harry sitting on the couch, his legs crossed. A black t-shirt adjourned his body, black jeans slung on his hips. His feet were bare. He was reading a newspaper, not even bothering to glance up when I entered.
Fuck, I'm so dead.
"Harry," I snapped, ordering his attention. "Harry, I'm dying. I need food, I haven't eaten in 24hours."
Maybe I was being slightly melodramatic.
"Tell someone who cares." He barked, not looking up from the paper.
My face turned hot, reddening at his sharpness.
Fucking asshole.
But oh god he was fucking pissed. My stomach growled in response, my arm leaning on the wall to support me, my head continuing to thump painfully, my hangover evident.
"...I thought I was." I said slowly, trying to play on his 'emotions' - if he bloody had any.
His head snapped up, a smirk on his face. Taking in my appearance, it slowly turned into a grin... Well then, I guess he didn't have feelings.
"Well you thought wrong." He said, a laugh bubbling at his lips. "You chose to defy me, and now, you suffer the consequences."
My mouth popped open- he was actually going to starve me. "What the fuck do you mean 'consequences'?" I shouted, my head pounding from the effort.
"You said anything about not drinking."
His eyes scanned me, leaving me bare and frightened. Slowly coming to a stand, he paced over to the kitchen.
"Sit down." He ordered, gesturing to the chair briefly.
I stumbled over, for once, doing as he said.
This is fucking bullshit.
"You made me miss work, Hannah." He growled. "All thanks to your stupid, selfish drinking binge, I miss out on thirty thousand pounds."
My mouth popped open, but I tried to look nonchalant. "I didn't make you fucking do anything."
"Well I bloody had to be here in case you fucking died, didn't I now?!" He shouted, banging a glass of water in front of me.
I gripped the cup, drinking the water down in one gulp.
His eyes widened, a smirk coming across his face.
