xx // ashton irwin

eighty-one // sheets

"shit," he whispers. he runs a hand through his brown curls and sighs, "i'm so sorry,"

i shake my head, forgetting the pain inside of it. i groan and massage my throbbing temples.

"i should probably take you home," harry suggests after a long period of awkward silence.

i nod slowly before wrapping the sheets around my body.