Harry Styles Scares Me

Chapter Ten

Why is it that when you throw up you're just magically not drunk anymore? If you got rid of everything in your stomach that should end the drunkenness right?

Wrong.

I puked out everything I'd eaten that day and all the wine I drank and I was still so drunk I could barely spell my own name. Harry stood behind me, pressed a cool cloth to my forehead and held my hair while I wretched. I had to hand it to him, he was kind to me throughout.

I had no doubt, however, that once I pulled myself off his bathroom floor he'd collect me into his car and deposit me back at my front door. I'd not only insulted his best friend, I'd questioned his integrity and then puked all over his extremely beautiful bathroom. Even Harry Styles had a line and I knew I'd crossed it.

I was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, my head tipped back against the wall behind me. He'd told me not to move that he'd be right back...probably getting the passenger seat of his truck covered in plastic in case I puked again on my ride home.

He walked back into the bathroom to hand me a toothbrush,

"Think it's safe to do this now."

I stared at the toothbrush, confusion written on my face,

"Y-you want me to brush my teeth?"

"Don't you want to?" He asked.

I mean, I did. It made sense. Maybe he just wanted me to deal with what had to be heinous breath before he was stuck in a vehicle with me.

I stood up slowly and I made my way to the sink. The whole ordeal was over in a few moments. Harry left again and then returned just as I finished wiping my mouth. He moved towards me,

"Can you walk?"

I nodded, though the mistake was clear when I stepped forward and landed in a heap on the floor. Harry chuckled softly as he knelt down,

"Figured that could happen."

He slid one arm under my knees and the other behind my back and he hoisted me up off the floor as if I barely weighed ten pounds. I let out a slight squeal as my hands hooked around his neck. He then walked me down the hallway towards a room a door at the end. Maybe he was going to dump me on my ass.

The room we walked into was huge with a king sized four poster bed against the wall in the middle. He walked me towards the bed and a few moments later I was laid down in what could only be described as a cloud of comfort.

Good lord.

This was his room. I shouldn't have been in his room but ohhhhhh...the bed was so comfortable.

I flopped onto my stomach. Harry pulled my hair out of my face as I smashed my cheek into the pillow. He pushed the ice to my lip again and then he smiled,

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head,

"Why don't you hate me?" I whined as he took one of my hands to keep the ice pressed to my lip.

"Hate you?" He chuckled, "Why on earth would I hate you?"

"I just puked in your bathroom."

"Surely you don't think you're the first person to puke in my bathroom."

"She said she was your girlfriend." I whined again, "But she meant she's a girl and she's your friend."

Harry nodded, his hand gently petting my head,

"Yeah, she did."

"And she's got a fiancee..." I kept whining. Why was I whining? Oh right, because I'd just made a complete fool of myself in front of a guy who'd never been anything but nice to me.