Bet On It | H. Styles

xxvii

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I was on the brink of death.

Okay, maybe not actual death, but Hell at least.

The temperature today was well into the nineties, and out of all days, today the central air system decided to break. Fans were spread around the house, the ceiling fans in each room and the living room circling around on high power. But, as anyone knows with hot air entering a fan, the fan is essentially just blowing around more hot air.

I was sprawled out across the once cold hardwood floor, the sweat of my body seeping onto the floor which made the hardwood floor now just as warm as my body. Normally, anyone would just take this opportunity to jump into cool ocean water to cool down their body. It didn't help that outside, rain started pouring pretty harshly. And the humidity outside was so bad that if I dared stepped out of this house, my already horrible hair would make me look like Monica from 'Friends.'

Everyone took this moment to laugh at me as my hair was starting to form into a poof-ball, but I trapped myself in my room to avoid any lingering stares. I looked up at my fan that working around in circular motions, missing my New York summer that could be hot, but never this unbearable.

I could take this time to do some work, but then again, my body was so exhausted from the heat, it would take a lot to even lift my finger. We called a plumber to come check our faulty pipes, but he said the soonest he would be here would be around four o'clock. It was currently eleven.

Instead of doing anything productive with my life, I decided to reminisce in last night's shenanigans. Maybe the wine was really strong, or maybe I was really weak. Maybe both. But I don't know what came over me when Harry came over. If we were to be in that situation now, I don't think I would do what I did. I wouldn't pull him closer and slightly undo his shirt so I could pepper kisses across his tan and toned chest.

I don't think.

Sitting up from my position on the now hot and sweaty floor, I rubbed my head that was slowly producing a headache. I didn't even want to think of how horrible my hair was looking so I just threw it up into a messy bun the best I could without snapping my hair-tie or without looking even greater a fool.

I glanced out the window and saw the rain pounding against the once light sand. I let out a sigh at the depressing weather, now standing up from my spot and finally going back downstairs. However, when I made it down the steps, the house was eerily quiet.

Did I actually die and go to heaven or something?

Peering around the corner into the living room, I saw no one, and glancing into the kitchen I saw not a soul. Now I was slightly freaked out because no one told me if they were leaving. But so far, I've seen no sight of struggle from a wandering burglar/murderer.

"Hello?" I called out to see if there was some sort of response from someone, anyone. Right about now is when I could hear a pin drop if I had one.

It didn't help that the rain outside was hitting against the house and the ground outside so loud that it was hard to even hear my own thoughts. Rain wasn't supposed to be on the forecast all week yet somehow it managed to creep it's way. I hope it wouldn't ruin Patty and Derek's wedding in just a few days.

I've never been one to get scared easily, but I was shaking — if I was wearing boots, or maybe even shoes, I'd be shaking in them.

"Is anyone here?" I asked, again, no response back. I huffed, hating that no one told me they were leaving. And if there was a murderer on the loose, I'm sure I'd be dead already.

All of a sudden, I heard the toilet to the bathroom next to me flush, making me jump out of my skin and onto the floor. I groaned as I hit my tailbone pretty harshly on the wood. The culprit opened the door, almost stepping on me as I lay on the floor.