Spotlight |h.s|

Thirteen

Aubrey Hart

I wake up quickly, alarmed by the sound of a phone ringing. Light evades my eyes through the window as I sit up, almost shitting myself when I feel a hand on my hip.

I turn my head with my eyes pinched shut, scared to look at who is next to me. Deep down I know who it is, I'm just hoping if I close my eyes for long enough, he'll disappear.

I can't believe I did this.

I open them finally, my vision being met with a naked Harry who didn't even pull the covers over him last night. I snort at the sight of his bare ass, making him stir in his sleep. I move his hand off of me like it's toxic waste, then cringe before looking for the source of the ringing that woke me to begin with.

I recall more of last night, remembering that my phone is downstairs so the ringing has to be coming from his. I push my body up on my elbow to glance at it on the nightstand next to his side of the bed. I read Max's name, my brows furrowing as I double check to make sure I'm seeing things correctly.

I turn my head to the clock, reading 8:30 am. Oh, fuck me. We're over an hour late. My alarm didn't wake me like it usually does since my phone is laying in the hall downstairs, a few cracks probably being in the screen.

I automatically jump out of my bed and rush for the first pair of underwear I find, pulling myself into a purple lace pair of panties and a matching bra. I don't know why, but I always like to match. It makes me feel pretty.

I struggle to pull myself into my dark pink leggings, throwing on a plain black hoodie and running into the bathroom to take off my makeup and wash my face since I didn't last night. I do all of this relatively quietly in order to prevent waking him, eyes glancing back at the bed every so often to make sure he's still asleep.

Having sex with him changes nothing. He's still the same asshole he's always been. He's even more of one after last night, really. I feel like a complete moron for letting this happen, but I can't change it.

As a form of revenge for the mistake he caused me to make, I'm not waking him up for work. He can figure it out himself. Us riding together or arriving at the same time would make us look worse than we already do. I don't know what type of lie we're going to spin up to explain why we're late, but I don't even have time to worry about that right now.

I quickly brush my hair and teeth, then pull some socks onto my feet and slip out of the room. He's sound asleep as I do all of this, resting on his stomach with his face buried in my covers as he sleeps peacefully on his stomach.

I hurry down the stairs and grab my cracked phone from the hall, having no time to eat or do anything else. I simply grab my purse and go, a mess still on my floor and a naked man still sleeping in my bed.

I hop into my car and pull out while buckling my seatbelt, being a bit reckless with it but exiting my driveway safely. I leave my neighborhood and head in the direction of the set, this ride being a silent one due to all of the stress I feel at the moment. Music will only make my mind race more than it already is.

In the midst of my speeding, I somehow have time to think about what the fuck happened last night. We argued like I wanted, he caught me red handed, we argued some more, and then we... kissed? Had sex? How does that add up?

Why the fuck did I kiss him?

I don't even know who made the first move. My vision was red with rage and so was his. I have no idea why it even happened to begin with. I regret it. I really regret it. I know he'll now be holding this over me forever. He can say something about it at any given moment, too. He can say I was bad, or say the opposite to sexualize me even more to the media. He could use it as an excuse for things. He could spin this in so many different ways. I don't like that he has that kind of power. I really don't like it.