Hush, Hush » punk h.s.

1.

I woke up in my pajamas on my bed. My first thought was, 'How the fúck did I get here?'

Last night was all a blur.

All I remember is seeing James, my supposedly loyal boyfriend of two years, groping some slút while she was sucking on his neck. Being heartbroken and at a party, I started taking tequila shots to numb pain and grinding on whatever guy was closest to me.

I decide to shrug it off and wash up, reluctantly standing up.

My head hurt like héll.

Dámn tequila..

I'm wobbling from the lack of balance I possess.

I hate hangovers.

I walk to the bathroom, taking the smallest steps possible, holding my head in my hands.

I undress myself while waiting to get in the shower.

Stepping into the shower, I let the hot water release the tension in my muscles.

All I can think about is what happened the night before.

After my shower, I get dressed in a grey sweatpants and a black spaghetti strap tank top, leaving my wet hair in a tangled mess.

When I finish, I make the decision to find out what happened last night to the best of my ability. So I start with searching my bedroom.

I stand in the doorway of my bathroom. As my eyes slowly scan my bedroom for any evidence from last night, they linger over to a note on my night stand.

I walk over to where the note was and sit on my bed before picking up the note. I started reaching for the note when my phone rang.

'Shít,' I thought, 'Where's my phone?'

I follow the sound of the ringing in my pants which were in the laundry basket. Afraid of what I might find, I carefully pull my denim skinny jeans out of the basket.

I reach in the back pocket to get my still ringing phone. I finally get it out of my jeans pocket, to see I had no idea who is calling me.

I decide to answer it, anxious of who is on the other end. I push the answer button on the screen of my phone and put the phone up to my ear,

"Huh-huh-hello?" I manage to stutter out.

The voice on the other end let out a raspy laugh,

"You have fun last night?"

Why did his voice sound so familiar?

"Who is this?" I whisper into the phone.

"Harry." He answered cooly.

All at once, the memories came flooding back into my mind. I dropped the phone onto the floor and nervously sat down on my bed. I remembered all of the guys I had grinded on. I remembered the memories of when I had first met this Harry guy.

*Flashback*

I was grinding on this really hot guy. I never caught his name, but I definitely would want to see him again. He had his hands on my thighs and was slowly sliding them up and down. My back was to him with my hands around the back of his neck, fingers entwined.

I felt a strong hand grab my arm and pull me from this guy. He didn't seem to care. I think he assumed this man was my pissed off boyfriend.

This mysterious curly haired man pulled me through the crowd of drunk, sweaty people and finally stopped when we were in a dark corner with no one around us. He turned to face me and grabbed my waist, pulling me close to him.

His curly brown hair brushed my left cheek as he leaned down to whisper something in my ear,

"I've been watching you dance on drunk whánks this entire night. Mind telling me why, babe?"

I wouldn't dare tell anyone of the traumatising event that had taken place earlier that night.

And why was this asshole watching me?

I dropped my hands from his neck to on top of his large, warm hands and pried them off my waist.

My vision was getting blurry from the tears welling up in my eyes. I was moving sluggishly through the drunk, sweaty people when I felt a strong, familiar hand grip my wrist. I struggled to get out of his hold on my forearm.

I was so close to the door.

I pulled one last time to get out of his grip, and I succeeded.

When I got to the door, I slammed my hands into it.

Once I was outside, I slumped against the wall of the outside of the home that wasn't mine, throwing my face into my hands.

I heard the door open but didn't bother to see who it was. I felt a hand on my back as the figure sat down next to me,

"C'mon, let me see that beautiful face. I'm Harry by the way."

I reluctantly looked at his face. "Violet. My name is Violet." I managed to choke out through tears.

My eyes studied his jawline traveling up his face to his cheek bones. Then my blue orbs met his. They were a beautiful green and I just had to stare.

I felt a smile creep onto my face in his emerald eyes light up, his dimples showing, along with his pearly whites, "There's that beautiful smile I've been waiting for."

My cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red.

"Let's get you home. You can tell me all about it on the way if you want, love." He said, smile slowly fading off his face as I reached to grab his out stretched hand.

I gripped his hand tightly as he did the same. Just as I was standing up, I heard someone burst out the door.

James.

I saw him give me a heart-breaking, hurt look. Hurt was instantly replaced with anger and jealousy seeing me with my small hand in Harry's large ones,

"What the fúck is going on?" James slurred, obviously drunk out of his mind.

I shakily let go of Harrys' hand then walked around his towering frame to talk to James,

"J-J-James," I said, voice wavering.

I was nervous because he was unpredictable when he was drunk. I didn't want him to hurt Harry. Even though we just met,

"We're done." I managed to squeak out.

"That doesn't answer my question." He said, annoyance clear in his voice.

"I don't have to answer your question." I stated, gaining confidence.

James scoffed, "You're a slút, you know that?"

"And why's that?" I asked, hurt filling my voice.

There were tears threatening to burst from my eyes at any moment.

"Because I know you were gonna take him home with you and cheat on me." He slurred, with a smirk on his face.

Now I was pissed and couldn't control the tears streaming down my face. Without warning, a jolt of adrenaline shot through my body.

Me being unable to compose myself, foolishly fought back and sunk down to his level by saying,

"I'm the slút?! Says the goddámn man-whóre who was all over a dirty fúcking cúnt? Ha. That's rich."

James rose to the occasion, "You know wha-"

His voice was cut short by Harry, coming out of his state of shock, walking protectively in front of my tiny body and carefully scooting me behind him,

"Back off, you fúckin' prick."

Harry seemed to tense up as James' facial features were stern and hardened as he challenged Harry,

"Who's gonna make me?"