Back For You (Harry Styles)

Part 43

Lucy's POV:

"What the hell?" I groan as a loud ringing sound wakes me from my sleep. I squeeze my eyes shut tight against the sunlight and try to ignore the pounding headache that is beating against my skull. Harry groans along with me and reaches over to answer his phone, silencing the shrill noise.

"Hello?" he says, his voice low and raspy.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a bit," he sighs, hanging up and pushing the blankets off of his side of the bed.

"Harry?" I say, my eyes still closed.

"Hey, babe," he answers, his voice coming from just above my ear. I jump and open my eyes to see him bent over me, smiling. "I have to go to the studio, I'm already late and they need me. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

I nod and sigh as he leans down and presses his soft lips to mine shortly before pulling away and disappearing out the door. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to rid myself of the sick feeling boiling in my stomach. I remember flashes from last night. Taking shots with Niall, dancing with Zayn before Harry cut in, driving back with Mark and laughing incessantly, eating cake. Cake. That's why I feel so sick. I can't believe I let myself slip after all the hard work I've put in. Anger towards myself consumes me and I quickly jump out of bed and run to the bathroom.

"Lucy! I'm leaving now, love you!" Harry calls, and I place a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming out. I know I can't answer him, so I lock myself in the bathroom and retch until there's nothing left to come up.

"Lucy!" Harry yells, making me freeze. I thought he already left. "What are you doing?"

"I-uh," I stumble over my words while flushing the toilet and opening the door. "I had too much to drink last night."

Harry narrows his eyes at me and I can see the conflict within them. He knows. I brace myself for his anger, but none comes.

"Well," he says, taking a deep breath to steady himself, "I hope you feel better. There's aspirin in the cabinet for your headache."

He then walks out the door, leaving me very confused yet strangely relieved.

-

2 weeks later

Progress. I've been making progress. I've been eating - not excessively - but enough. I've been able to keep most of it down, and I've found that it's easier to do so when Harry is around because I hate seeing him disappointed in me. He's been very gentle and caring, but I still have been very clear about boundaries regarding physical contact. With as much progress as I've been making, I would hate for it to all fall apart. Harry still struggles with this, but he's come to accept it in one way or another.

This morning when I wake up, I feel a sick stirring in my stomach. Knowing what's going to happen, I rush to the bathroom and barely make it in time to puke in the toilet. The vile taste of my own bile invades my mouth as I lean over the toilet, holding my hair back with one hand.

"Lucy?" Harry calls, noticing that I'm not in bed with him like I normally am. I'm about to answer him when another wave of sickness hits me and forces me to retch into the water.

"Babe?" he's standing outside the door now, concern clear in his voice.

"I-I think I must have eaten something bad last night," I say truthfully. I haven't made myself puke in almost a week, and I don't plan on starting up again.

"Lucy..." Harry sighs, obviously not believing me. I can't blame him since I've used that excuse before, but this time I'm not lying. "I'm not an idiot."