I'm Broken {Harry Styles}

Chapter 11

| Lacey's POV |

I woke up with a pounding headache. It felt like I was being hit on the head with rocks. I slowly opened my eyes and immediately saw bright light. I groaned and rolled over, shoving my face into a pillow. A pillow that was not my own. Where am I? I sat up slowly and looked around the room. Nothing looks familiar. I probably just stayed at Zayn's house, right?

I begrudgingly got out of bed and trudged out of the room and down the stairs. I looked around and realized that I'm in Harry's house, not Zayn's. But why would I be here? I made my way to the kitchen and saw Harry cooking something on the stove. I groaned and slumped into a seat, leaning on the counter.

"Hangover?" Harry curtly asked without turning away from the stove. I just groaned in responce, my head hurting too much to say anything. "There's Advil in the cabinet under the sink in the bathroom," He was definitely in a bad mood and I don't know why. I sighed and got the medicine and slumped right back down where I was sitting before.

"What are you making?" I asked.

"Spaghetti," I looked over at the clock and saw that it was already 12:30.

"Why am I at your house and not my own or Zayn's?" I got strait to the point, not wanting to waste extra time talking to Harry.

"You didn't want to stay at Zayn's or go to your house so here you are," he turned around and got a colander from one of the cabinets and drained the pasta in the sink.

"Oh," was all I could think to say. Harry continued to pour the sauce on the noodles and then mix it up.

"Want any?" He sounded forced, like he was trying to be polite but really didn't want to.

"No, not hungry," I replied.

"Okay, how long do you plan on staying here because I have things to do," Harry remarked.

"Whatever I'll just leave now, it seems I'm unwanted here anyways," Harry didn't reply as I got up and walked to the front door, putting on my shoes before walking out. It was probably only a half hour walk, so not too far. I began whistling random songs as I walked. I grabbed my phone from my pocket-I have no idea how it's still there-only to see that it's completely dead. I sighed and continued whistling and walking. I let my mind wander while I walked and was back to my house in no time.

I was still quite hungover so right when I got into my freezing cold house. I immediately ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out. Since I didn't have much in my stomach, I ended up dry heaving over the toilet.

I was resting my sweaty forehead against the toilet seat when I heard the front door slam. My eyes widened and my heart rate practically doubled.

"LACEY! WHERE ARE YOU? I KNOW YOU DIDN'T COME HOME LAST NIGHT!" Shit. I heard him clobbering in the kitchen and quickly went to hide under the sink. I folded in and closed the door. When I went to close the second one I lost my grip and it slammed shut. I squeezed my eyes shut and froze any of my movement. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest. Dylan got silent and then started walking towards the bathroom.

"Lacey, I know you're in here," he said, right outside the bathroom. I heard the door slowly click open and then footsteps coming into the bathroom. Dylan let out a putrid laugh and spoke, "Hiding just gets you in more trouble sweetheart," I shuddered. I know I shouldn't come out of my hiding spot. I heard movement and could tell he was by the toilet. "Hmm, not here," he moved to the shower and pulled back the curtain. "Not here either, where could you be?" He walked closer until his footsteps were right beside the sink. It was silent for what felt like years, all that was heard was my heart beating like mad; I swear he can hear it.