Harry: “Are you sure you’ll be alright here… alone?” You question again, turning from your vanity. Harry lies on your bed, leg bent and foot flat against the mattress while reading a worn copy of The Picture of Dorian Grey. He looks up from the passage he’s reading, letting the book rest against his chest and he gives you an assured smile. “I’ll be fine love,” he chuckles, glancing back to the pages of his book with a grin, “besides, I don’t want to interrupt what Eleanor calls ‘The most epic bitch night of the year’” he finishes and you grin. “Well, don’t be surprised when I come home shit faced,” you warn and Harry shakes his head, finger pushing another page passed and his eyes scan the first passage on the new page. “I’ll have the trashcan ready, shall I?” He teased, groaning when the hairbrush you’d tossed makes contact with his forehead. “Yes,” you say simply, red lips pulling into a bright smile before you jump on the bed and crawl overtop him. “Don’t start something you won’t finish,” Harry half teases, half begs of you. You pull the book from the grasp of his long fingers, leaning closer to him as you let the old book drop to the hardwood floors of your bedroom. “Never, especially not when my boyfriend is so hot,” you whisper against his lips, letting the lips you’d painted red linger over his as your minty breath puffed against his softly. “Tease,” Harry groaned in annoyance once you’d pulled away without kissing him and you shrug playfully. “See you later,” you say with a wave of your fingers before you leave the apartment. Four hours later, you’ve completely forgotten your name. “I… fuck me,” you groan, slamming another tequila shot back and Eleanor grins drunkenly while clapping her hands sloppily. You’re both out on the dance floor, your friends surrounding you as everyone dances to the beat of the music blaring in the club. Eleanor is behind you, hips moving with yours with her hands above her head and drunkenly singing along to the song, which means she’s mostly slurring the words. It’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. There’s a man in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling you along through the sea of grinding bodies and you stumble behind him. “Oi, hands off!” You stammer, swaying on the spot before large hands grip your upper arms to steady you on the sidewalk. “Y/N… come on, sober up. I can’t take you home this smashed,” a familiar voice says and you blink a few times before finally noticing Louis Tomlinson standing in front you. He’s dressed in black jeans and a white v-neck, tattoos on full display and it’s evident he’d been at the same club. You glance behind him wondering if his girlfriend is also in attendance; they’d just gotten back together and while you didn’t know Louis well enough you knew his girlfriend was stunning. “Oi, stay with me,” Louis chuckles, catching you when you tumble into his arms and your head is swimming. “Got her, they need food… lots of food,” Ed calls, and you turn with a big smile on your face. “Eddie… Eleanor, Ed is here!” You exclaim, reaching forwards to grip onto Ed’s shoulders and smash your lips to his sloppily. Ed is shocked, shell shocked and still as you kiss him. Eleanor is laughing in the background, hands clapping loudly. “Oh, you’re not Harry,” you hear her comment from behind you and turn to find her in Louis’ arms, drunk and confused as to why he wasn’t Harry. “I thought we were, kissing each other boyfriends and he’s not your boyfriend… I’m drunk,” Eleanor chuckles. “HAR… HARR… boyfriend,” you scream loudly, swinging the apartment door open and sliding into the living room. Harry is on the couch, Lord of the Rings playing in the background and he turns to you. You’ve got one hand on the doorknob, back leaning against the door jamb as you try to kick your heels off but find the task to be harder than expected and you give up. “Have a good time then?” He questions, standing while turning the TV off and you stare him down. “Eleanor thought you were Louis so she kissed him,” you mock whisper, stumbling forwards as Harry shuts the door behind you and locks it in place. “Why did she want to kiss me?” Harry wonders, following you down the hallway. He stumbles back when you spin suddenly, heels finally kicking off and landing behind him. “Because, I kissed Ed and she thought we were switching boyfriends!” You exclaim as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Harry raises an eyebrow at you. “Why were you kissing Ed?” he demands with a chuckle, watching as you lean against the wall and bend over. “Look, I’m twerking!” You exclaim, ass jiggling against the wall and while Harry is impressed with your balance seeing how drunk you are, he really wants an answer as to why you were kissing other men. “Ed’s a ginger… ginger’s are hot and I was drunk and when I get drunk I get horny and you weren’t there. You were here, reaaaadddding,” you draw out with a bored sigh, slapping a hand to wall to strike a pose and Harry rolls his eyes. “So, you kissed some other guy?” He questions and you shake your head. “Yeah, but it was Ed… he doesn’t count, you can’t get mad at me,” you demand, a drunk finger pointed in his direction before you spin and smack into the wall. “It hit me, this wall hit me! IT has to go!” You demand loudly, stumbling back into Harry’s arms as he leads you into your bedroom. “You need to sleep, and pray… pray that you sleep a hangover off,” Harry chuckles, catching the clothes you start stripping out of before you fall face first on the bed and pass out. He drops the clothes in the hamper and turns you on your side. He places a trashcan at the side of the bed and a bottle of water on the bedside table before he crawls into bed next to you. You wake up a few hours later and stumble into the bathroom to hurl and Harry is right behind you to hold your hair. He stays with you for the hour you’re in the bathroom and he helps you brush your teeth and wash your face off before he carries you back to bed. The next morning, you conveniently have no idea what he’s talking about when he questions you about your kiss with Ed.
