A Dangerous Game

Chapter 9

I throw an arm across my eyes, my head throbbing so hard it seems as though it has a heart of its own. The tiniest ray of light pierces my skull like a thousand needles, and I immediately wish I could fall back asleep. But the pain is too bad, and despite my closed eyes and heavy limbs, I know I'm not going to be able to fall back under.

"Hey idiot, take this." Although I doubt Louis is talking louder than normal his voice enters my ears like a megaphone, making me flinch.

"Jesus Christ, be quiet, will you?" I dare to open my eyes, squinting angrily at his all too amused expression before slamming them shut again.

"That's right. Now that you've experienced the joys of getting wasted, it's time you deal with a hangover. Cheers mate." I hear him pop the lid off a beer can and take a loud sip. If my head didn't feel like it was about to explode with every movement I'd smack him.

"How is that supposed to help," I grumble, pinching the bridge of my nose with my free hand. There's shuffling, then Louis gently pulls my hand away from my face, closing my fingers around a pill. I frown, risking to open my eyes again as he places a glass of water in front of me. "Alcohol is dehydrating," he explains, then nods to the medication. "I assume you can guess what that's for?"

I groan, forcing myself to sit up. The movement makes me feel dizzy and I swallow as bile crawls up my throat, but Louis rubs my back gently and puts the glass in my hand, making the effects slightly more tolerable. I down the pill in one gulp, but when I go to put the glass down Louis tilts it back up, forcing me to drink all of its contents.

"Might as well get it over with in one go. You should feel better soon."

I raise an eyebrow but regret it immediately as my head spikes. I rub my temples as he grins unforgivingly. "I'll really feel good?" My voice comes out raspy and quiet, but I don't bother to repeat myself. I know he heard me.

"Sure. If by good you mean not feeling like you're going to die, then yes." He grins happily, completely unempathetic. I suppose that's warranted, but I still wrinkle my nose at him in annoyance.

"Ugh, fine. Now what?"

"Now you go back to sleep." He holds a hand up before I can complain. "I'm serious Harry. You're not going to be any help like this."

I hang my head, inwardly kicking myself. I never should have-

"Hey," he says, snapping in front of my face until I look at him. "Don't you dare start getting mad at yourself. Everyone has a breaking point, and you had yours. As far as they go, that was some pretty good timing. I'd rather you get drunk at home than get shot out there." His voice fades at the end of his little speech and I reach forward to squeeze his hand. He smiles softly, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Wake me in an hour," I say. He shakes his head.

"Two."

"One."

"One forty five."

"Hour and a half."

"Done," he agrees, smirking. I just roll my eyes and lay back, but before I close my eyes I hesitate.

"Can I, um, go to the guest bedroom?"

"Sure. Can I, um, come with you?"

I can't tell if he's mocking me or if he's just as nervous, but I nod my head, gritting my teeth at the throb it causes.

He helps me up, keeping a firm hand around my waist. I know the last thing I should be doing right now is laughing, but I can't help the amused smile that teases my lips. I doubt that if I were to stumble he could help me very much considering his small frame, but I know if I bring it up he'll scoff and walk away. So I keep my laughter to myself, laying down with a relieved breath. Louis draws the shades shut, then joins me. His warm body is pressed so close to mine that I don't even need covers, and the next thing I know he's shaking me awake.