Torn [Harry Styles]

Chapter 11

Unlike my own room, there is no light peeking through the window when I wake up. I'm sure it's around 6 or 7 in the morning but I can't be sure. I sit up and cringe at the thought of myself drinking, I'm sure I don't have a hangover but there is still a slight headache. I pull my white flats on and go find Harry. I didn't even realise that it would be so hard for most of the doors are locked. I decide to call his mobile, maybe he went home... I begin to worry, but then I hear a ring coming from the end of the hall, I follow the sound to a closed door. It could be anyone's phone, it continues to ring until it goes to voicemail. The phone I hear stops too, I turn the knob expecting it to be locked but it isn't. On the other side of the door, lies a shirtless man, and a head of curls rests on the pillow. His back- which is facing me is toned, a clear outline of muscle leads down to his boxers. The door creaks as I debate wether or not to go wake him. Harry stirs in his sleep and slowly turns over onto his back, and I can just see his face underneath his brown locks. Soft breaths escape his lips and I feel warmth spread through my cheeks down to my stomach. Symbols are spread across his body- tattoos.

Suddenly a hand emerged from the other side of the double bed and slaps his chest. I freeze. Harry's eyes flutter open, he is barly affected by the slap.

"Who the fuck is that, babe?" A hushed voice squeals. Harry rolls over and notices me at the doorway, the girl sits up, only wearing a bra and glares at me. Harry quickly jumps out of the bed and reaches for his jeans. The warmth in my stomach is gone and I am shocked, it doesn't take much thought to know what these two have done. I turn around and walk out the door.

"Where are you off to then? The females voice is muffled, but calm. Harry follows me, he is only in jeans. I hurry down the stairs, he takes long strides and his feet are surrounded by red and blue cups. What a mess, not just the party.

"Sorry you saw that." His head is bowed, slightly but he doesn't really seem ashamed.

"What did you do, move straight on to the next girl?" I frown.

"We never had a thing going." Harry Growls "Do you want me to get you home?" He asks. I don't really want to go anywhere with someone so... Inappropriate. But I nod because I have a feeling my friends left without me. I look around the room in hope for a place to sit, but the couches are otherwise occupied. I choose to sit down on the stairs, Harry pulls his t-shirt over his head, I watch as the curls slightly bounce out of the collar and then fall gently into place.I have no idea what I look like- probably terrible. As he calls the taxi I get the same feeling I had before, or maybe it's just embarrassment from what happened upstairs.

Harry hangs up the phone and leans against the door frame. As he does so, a brunet, different from the one with Harry quickly strolls down the stairs- barefoot, her heels hocked on her fingers. Her heavy eyeliner is smudged and I am thankful I wear little makeup.

"Bye, Carrie!" Harry calls, she turns around and glares at him.

~~~~

Our cab beeps and Harry steps outside, expecting me to follow, I see Carrie standing impatiently outside waiting for something too. I watch as Harry's long leg attempts to stretch into the car, he bends his body sideways and moves in. He has to be extra careful that his head doesn't hit the roof.

"Times Square," Although the cold has woken him up, his voice is still husky. "we can walk from there."

The silence between us goes on and I feel uncomfortable. He slept with that girl, which I guess could be fine if they were going out. But then the thing that really gets me, is that he just left her, as if she was nothing.

"Thanks for taking me home." I mumble, not wanting to start a real conversation but not wanting to be impolite. Harry looks at me right into my eyes, and then looks down to the floor, and then back at me.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" He looks out the window. I feel absolutely nauseated. I can recall almost everything that happened last night in a haze, but what if I missed something out! I wouldn't have, not me, I have more control than that! I blink at him, I couldn't have been that drunk. He smiles. "No, nothing happened between you and me if you were wondering." A beautiful thing really, the feeling of relief... And his smile.

"Good." I say simply and watch us cross the Manhattan bridge.

"You wish!" He grins. I can't help but join his playful tone with a grin.

"Last night you said Zayn and stuff weren't your friends?"

"Zayns alright, but the others are immature."

I wonder what Zayn got up to last night. The silence continues.

"Why did you just leave her?" My voice is quiet.

"You wanted to go home, I only see her at party's and shit." He stares out the twindow. "Danica... I have never been embarrassed about the sort of thing I do. But in front of you I feel awkward."

"Why?"

"Maybe because your a prude?" I scoff, but it's not the first time I've been called that. "Or perhaps because you're not like the others, you won't pat me on the back and congratulate me, only to ask for it to be your turn next." He admits.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. The taste of liquor still lingers in my throat, I don't want to go to another party anytime soon, let alone drink. It's not me. I feel uneasy at the words just spoken.

"You do that a lot? I question

"Often."

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