"I'd go anywhere with you."
The feeling of arms wrapped around me when I awoke was foreign and I stiffened as soon as I felt them. Harry's head was resting on my chest, his hands resting gently over my stomach. Our legs were completely entwined, and as I tried to gently move away from our position, he subconsciously tightened his hold on me.
And as I looked down at his face, features soft and boyish with sleep, everything from last night came flooding back to me and I felt a surge of anger ripple through me before I was abruptly pushing away from Harry. As soon as I had shoved against him, he woke up, his grip immediately loosening on me enough so that I could get up from the bed.
He sat up, looking rather sleepy as he pushed his messy curls away from his face before eyeing me. "Are you okay?" His morning voice was deep and husky as he rubbed at his eyes slightly.
I should have been able to say yes, but I would have been lying, because I wasn't okay. In fact, I felt angry. So angry, that my stomach was twisting with fresh nausea and--
I just barely made it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach came rushing out of my mouth. I hated throwing up. It didn't feel good, nor did it taste good, not to mention the fact that hanging my head over a toilet bowl wasn't exactly fun.
As I bent over the marble, I felt my hair get pulled up and a large hand began to rub soothing circles along my back. This continued until I had vomited all that my body was able and I sat back on my legs, feeling thoroughly disgusted with the taste in my mouth, paired with the fact that Harry had just witnessed me puking.
He bent down to flush the toilet before helping me stand up and leading me to the sink. I shakily rinsed my mouth out with water before brushing my teeth meticulously twice. Once the sour taste had been replaced by a minty one, I washed my hands and then headed out of the bathroom, my gaze falling on Harry who was laying on my bed, doing something on his phone.
He sat up when I entered the room, his gaze meeting mine. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
I wanted to nod, say yes, and tell him that morning sickness was a normal occurrence, but instead I found myself replying with a quiet "no", and Harry immediately raised his eyebrows. "Do you feel sick still or--"
"No," I cut him off. My voice was oddly calm and level, quiet despite the anger surging through my veins. It wasn't expected, this feeling, but I knew the reason behind it. I timidly walked forward, stopping just in front of Harry who was now seated on the edge of the bed. He tilted his head up to look at me, leaning back on his hands as he waited for my explanation. "You... you make me feel sad."
Harry frowned, evidently not expecting my vague description of how I felt. I was struggling to explain though, therefore I opted to just wait and hear what Harry had to say, which came only seconds later.
"I make you feel sad?" he repeated questioningly. "How?"
"You slept with another girl." My voice was barely a whisper, and I felt almost childish admitting that this made me feel so horrible inside, because in reality, I should have expected it. I should have been able to understand that five months was apparently too long for a guy to go without sex. Or maybe I was reacting the way I was supposed to, but I felt like I shouldn't be getting upset at Harry considering he was drunk when it happened. Either way, I couldn't just ignore the fact that I was suddenly very sad.
When Harry didn't reply, I decided to elaborate. "You-you went, and you got drunk, and then you slept with someone else and I just... that hurts, Harry." I looked up from my shaky hands to meet his dark gaze. "I'd been here this entire time, trying to figure out how I was going to take care of this baby alone... trying to figure out how I was going to survive without you... and you're just going out and getting drunk and..." I took a deep breath before stepping aside from Harry and climbing onto the bed, going as far as the pillows before I buried my face in them.
