Underneath My Skin

Ch. 40

There's a vast difference between the pain of getting shot, and of losing the one you love. I am most sure that getting shot feels much better than the latter.

                                        - Gabriel Swann.

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I open my eyes and groan. A familiar ceiling comes into view, but it's not mine. I feel hot and a  heavy weight is pinning me to the bed. I look down, Harry's head is on my stomach and his arms are wrapped tightly around me.

What in the actual fuck happened last night?

I thump his forehand and he groans before sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looks down at me.

I swallow the lump rising in my throat. He looks so sexy when he first wakes up. His hair  is a disheveled mess, his lips are extra plump, and he's shirtless. I gulp.

"What the fuck happened last night?" I ask.

Harsh frowns. "You don't remember?" his voice is scratchy, raspy, and laced with sleep.

It's the sexiest voice that I have ever had the privilege of hearing.

I sit up and almost immediately regret it. My head throbs intensely, and warm bile starts crawling up my throat. I jump up from the bed and run into the bathroom.

I throw myself onto the floor and hug his toilet seat before spilling my guts out.

I feel my hair being pulled out of my face and a warm hand rubbing circles into my back. This only intensifies the pain in my head. Why is he touching me like this?

My body shows no mercy as I eject what I'm assuming is alcohol and whatever I had to eat last night.

Once my body has regurgitated all the poison inside my body, I flush the toilet and groan. My whole body is sore.

Harry pulls me to my feet and the ache in my head increases. I groan and rub my temples. He pulls me to the sink and pulls an extra tooth brush out. Thank goodness.

I rinse my mouth out, brush my teeth, then rinse my mouth out again. He brushes his teeth, then disappears and returns shortly with two Advil and a cup filled with water. I thank him and down the pills as well as the water.

I foolishly look into the mirror. I don't even recognize who I'm looking at. Besides my hair being a mess, the color in my cheeks has returned, there aren't bags under my eyes, and my eyes are big and bright. I also realize that I'm wearing Harry's shirt.

What in the hell?

My body involuntarily sways. I grip onto the vanity and take a deep breath. Despite the way I look, I feel like absolute death.

He grips my hips and spins me around to face him. Just him doing that makes me nauseated. He looks into my eyes and my breath hitches in my throat.

Why? Why does he have to have those mysterious forest green eyes?

I blink a few times and look down at my feet. Which is also a bad idea considering that I just realized he's only wearing his boxers.

Why the fuck am I here, and where the hell is Zayn?

His large hands slide under my shirt and rest on by stomach. I gasp and look him in the eyes.

"What are you doing?" I snap.

"Are you sore? Do you want to take a bath?" he asks nicely.

I raise my eyebrows at him. I am sore actually. Oh shit, did we have sex? Please please please tell me we didn't have sex.