Love & War | Brad Simpson ✔️

36. "They're the smallest fucking pyjamas I've ever seen"

Warning: sexual content.

This is a long one and probably one of my favourite chapters I've written so far. Also, it was really close between Blake and Reece when I asked for you guys for suggestions for which member of NHC you wanted to flirt with Ella in an earlier chapter but I ended up going with Blake. 

Also, this story have 35k+ reads now, which is so cool. Thank you guys so much for reading and sticking with the story, even if I don't update as much as you and I would probably like

much love :)

I'm hungover.

I know, big shock right? It's not like I got through a third of a bottle of vodka last night or anything...

The worst thing is that today is a busy day. The Vamps have a cluster of gigs across the country over the next four days and I'm tagging along, presumably to help Dean if needed. Be ready for 9am, I was told.

Kill. Me. Now.

Truth be told, if left to my own devices, I would have stayed in bed until the early afternoon and let them leave without me. However, my brother had other plans and barged into my room at half seven, jumped on top of me and then physically dragged me out of bed. It was very traumatic, I can assure you, especially since I had to pretend like I wasn't close to vomiting everywhere. I really didn't fancy explaining why I was hungover when as far as he was aware, I'd had a quiet night in hanging out in my room.

Effort is not even in the question today, I decide, as I throw on a pair of leggings and a comfy hoodie. I complete today's look with a pair of Adidas trainers and zero make-up, just to ensure that how I looked on the outside really matched how I felt on the inside. Absolute shit.

Luckily, I packed my bag yesterday so I spend the rest of the time I spend just lied on my bed trying to hold back vomit and pray away the pounding in my head. I assume that the boys are having breakfast but I can't stomach food right now.

"El, we're going!" I hear my brother call from somewhere in the flat and I muster up the strength to pull myself off my bed. I grab my two bags and throw the larger one over my shoulder, before leaving my room and making my way to the front door. Brad and Tris are already waiting with their bags, Brad with a guitar case slung over his shoulder. I avoid eye contact with Brad because I'm a little embarrassed about last night. Not just the whole 'me being pathetically drunk' thing but also everything I said. I don't normally open myself up to people that much because it makes me feel vulnerable. I just don't want Brad thinking of me any differently; I'm still the smart-mouthed sassy bitch he's known me as since we met.

"You ready?" Tris asks, quirking an eyebrow at me. I nod and we lug our bags to the lift. Once we're inside, I sigh and lean my throbbing head against the cold metal wall.

"You alright, Ella?" I hear Brad ask and I can detect the hint of amusement in his voice, "you look a bit ill"

I glance up at him with a guarded expression, making the corners of his mouth curl up ever so slightly, "I'm fine"

"He's right, you don't look great" my brothers adds in a concerned tone.

"I'm fine" I repeat.

"You almost look hungover" Brad adds and I grit my teeth. He may have been effing adorable with drunk me last night but he's still an arsehole. If I didn't feel so shit, I would honestly kick his arse right now.

"How could I be hungover, Bradley, if I haven't been drinking?" I retort in a sarcastic tone. Brad just shrugs but I can see he's hiding the knowing grin from his face.