Lethal Lust (Harry Styles x Reader)

the morning after.

Little beams of sunlight soaked through the curtains and engulfed the hotel room in a hazy tinge of gold. I let the warmth of the soft satin sheets swallow me as I regained consciousness. Flickering my eyes, slowly adjusting to the light I tried to relocate my thoughts, trying to remember what had all happened the night before.

Heck, what did happen the night before? God everything is such a blur even Damon Albarn is quaking right now. That's the worst joke I've made in a long time, oh to be born with a decent sense of humour.

Okay let's see there was the dance, Harry, Matilda and I fighting, Harry coming on to me, ew Tom coming on to me, fight, everyone seeing I went to the dance with Harry and not Dill, running away, freaking out, Harry and I kissing and then...

Nothing?

What the actual proverbial f***k is going on in my head right now, I can't remember a single thing after Harry and I kissed? Do I have like amnesia or something? my mind is as blank as a Kardashian's, this can't be good.

"Harry?" I inquired, rolling over to his side of the bed. "What happened last" before I could finish my question, I quickly realised I was just talking to the air, the left side of the bed was empty.

Harry was gone.

I don't really know how to articulate how I felt at that moment. There was this sick knot in my stomach, trying to deal with the sudden and surprising twist in my emotions. Whilst I was kind of slightly freaking a little bit out at the fact my memory decided to fail on me, the prospect of being able to turn around and face Harry and I don't know... shit this is embarrassing to admit, like cuddle and talk existentially while I lay on his chest just like they do in the movies was the most amazing thing in the world. I really genuinely had feelings for him and the naive part of me, the immature and inexperienced part of me foolishly believed he could ever reciprocate.

But who the hell was I kidding? it's me! The most one dimensional, shallow, superficial shit there is. I'm as boring as the weather forecast, as a documentary on a day in the life of a sloth, as 3 months in quarantine!

Nobody is going to ever care about me in the same way I do to them and y'know what, it's a bitter pill I've got to grow up and swallow.

Not gonna lie, I did feel pretty damn lousy trying to find some form of energy to pull myself up from the bed. I was so embarrassed I just wanted to curl up into the fetal position and cry all day into the 800 feather count pillows and order room service and stuff my body with like buffalo chicken wings and virgin Pina Colada's as a false form of comfort.

But no, Harry Styles doesn't deserve my stupid, futile tears or weight gain. "Forget this shit!" I exclaimed, giving myself a pep talk into the bathroom mirror. "Babe we are going to go home, ride out Halloween weekend watching back to back episodes of Gossip Girl, do a little R and R I'm thinking some face masks, some bubble baths all to the soundtrack of "Don't hurt yourself" by Beyonce blaring non stop, on repeat for the next 48 hours cause you are a bad bitch that can't be kilt by any stupid dickhead." Nope, not working. I don't have the energy to hype myself up, when Harry Styles has drained every ounce of confidence out of my body.

I closed my eyes as the last memories I had of the night before swirled around in my head, the curious pump of adrenaline soaring through my body as he confessed he cared about me. Feeling like I was literally on fire when he kissed me. For the first time in my life I thought somebody got me, understood me...could potentially love me? I can't handle this.

I collapsed on the floor, sobbing into the cold linoleum tiles. I felt so used, manipulated and exploited. I feel so idiotic for trusting him so blindly and allowing myself to be so vulnerable and exposed. Above everything, I was ignorant enough to believe that this guy was my friend that he would never try to hurt me.
I was nothing to him, just another body.
He didn't care for me at all.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After taking a shower, changing my clothes, throwing the now ruined Halloween costume into my kit bag and calling a taxi- I was finally ready to leave this stupid hotel room. But as my bag knocked the dressing table on the way out, a piece of paper fell from its surface.

A note?

(I ACC HATE THIS CHAPTER SORRY ABOUT HOW BAD IT IS x)