The Unlikable (Book One) // h.s. [COMPLETE]

Chapter 74

Harry's POV

I woke up moments, seconds, hours later, I'm not sure which. My hands were scuffed and my face hurt like hell, not my head but my face, like where my cheekbone was. My grungy hands rubbed my cheek and I felt a sting of pain as I quickly pulled my fingers away with blood on the tips.

"Shit," I stood up from the ground with my shaking unsteady hands and tried and failed at wiping the dirt off my pants due to the pain shooting through my tough skin. I walked down the alley way and to the light on the corner of the street.

I texted Dean to come pick me up.

"What the hell happened to you?" he pulled up to the curb twenty minutes later.

"I fell," I half-ass answered as I got in the car and grunted when I sat down. I looked down at my knees and they were the only thing not truly dirty.

"Shit, it looks like you got mugged. You sure you fell?" he turned the car and I braced myself as I felt my ribs chirr with pain. I squinted my eyes and tried to relax. I was ok. I was fine. I just passed out. I was fine...

"What time is it?" I looked at the dashboard and saw the clock. 1:48. I had left the studio pissed at James and Vincent two hours before midnight rolled in. I couldn't have been on the ground for three hours. I checked my other pocket for my wallet and it was gone. Shit. Someone did mug me but they didn't take my shitty old iPhone. I guess I should be thankful for that...not.

"They take all your stuff?" Dean sounded groggy. I must have woken him up from sleeping.

"Yeah, they didn't take my phone though," I placed my finger tips back on my face feeling for the oozing blood from my cheek bone.

"Give me a look at you," Dean pulled into a red light and I showed him my face. "You'll be fine. We'll get you cleaned up when we get back."

Ten minutes later, we parked their car and walked up the sidewalk and were bombarded with reporters trying to cover my massive fuck up on live TV. I put my hand over my face and shielded myself from the bastards as I went up the steps to our apartment.

I went straight to the bathroom and tried to be as quiet as possible not to wake up the other two guys. I put the wash cloth under warm water then washed my hands free of the dirt and grime from passing out next to a dumpster.

I saw Dean eating a bowl of leftover soup in the doorway of our shared bathroom and scowled at him.

"What?" he shrugged amused at my grouchiness. Then, he shoved a massive piece of carrot into his mouth. I forgot I made everyone homemade vegetable soup the other day.

"Make me one," I rolled my eyes and went back to my face cleaning. He left the door way and supposedly went to heat me up some food.

I rested the towel on the sore spot and closed my eyes and rested my head on my hand. Today has been such a long day and I feel like complete shit. I lifted my shirt to look at my hurt ribs and noticed the harsh purple and red morphed bruising along the top part of my stomach's side. It was at least the width and length of two tennis balls. And it fucking hurt like shit. I quickly pulled it down when I heard Dean approaching the bathroom again.

"The cuts not so bad," he put my bowl of soup in my room before he came into the bathroom to have a look at me.

I looked at the cut again in the mirror and it had already stopped bleeding. I went to my bedroom ignoring Dean and shut the door. I took off all my clothes and looked in the mirror to see if I was hurt anywhere else. I looked at my back and it was just the bruised ribs I had felt as well as a scrape on my shoulder, but other than that I was free of any harm. I was completely fine.