chapter fifteen // hungover.

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Olivia's POV

Feeling as if I had been hit by a truck, then repeatedly kicked by a small mob of small children, then left back on the road for rush hour to run me over, I start to wake up. Every single joint in my body aches in protest. My head throbs.

I let out a loud moan, wondering if I died last night.

Squinting to see in the bright sunlight, I sit up. I get up a bit too quickly and my head gets insanely dizzy, causing me to lie down once more. I realize that the starry-night mural that's painted on my ceiling is no longer there.

I glance around my room and realize that I'm not actually in my room. Panic fills me up as I sit up - much too quickly again - and do my best to figure out where I am.

I spot a small note on the bed beside me. I grab it quickly, not liking this confusion one bit. I feel like one of those skanks that wake up after a long night of partying -

Uh-oh. Am I one of those skanks? I did go out with the girls last night... I rack my brain, trying to remember what happened. I have no recollection after arguing with Juliet at the nightclub. I remember storming off and that's about it.

My eyes turn to the note, in hopes of some answers.

Olivia,

I wish I could be here when you woke up, just to be sure you're feeling alright, but unfortunately I'm stuck at the studio all day.. :( Feel free to stick around, if you'd like! But, call me when you wake up, yeah?

P.S. There's aspirin on the nightstand beside you and lots of food in the fridge; help yourself!

Your concerned, yet slightly amused boyfriend,

Harry

My cheeks turn bright red at the 'slightly amused' part. Sweet jesus. What did I do? Obviously the girls and I came here after the nightclub. I must have been beyond drunk!

I hide my face in my pillow, embarrassment filling every single fibre of my being. I'm not going to be able to show my face to any of them ever again! I'm not that much of a drinker, so I'm sure I was acting a fool.

The throbbing in my head reminds me of the first line of order. I lean over and pop open the aspirin bottle, taking a few pills without water, that's how badly it hurts. After dry-swallowing the pills, I literally roll out of bed.

I drag myself out of the bedroom and across the hall into the bathroom. It feels so weird to be waking up at my boyfriend's house. It makes me feel so... mature.

Still wearing my tight dress from last night, I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror in horror. My hair - which was nice and straight last night - is sticking up in all directions. My bangs cling to my forhead probably from sweating so much at the club. Makeup is still left over after I obviously failed to successfully wash my face last night.

Unable to stare for much longer, I pull my hair into a bun with a hairtie I find, and scrub my face clean with scalding hot water. The steam coming up from the faucet feels nice on my face.

 After I scurry out of the bathroom, too scared to continue staring at my reflection, I remember Harry's note. I fish through my purse, which was sitting on the kitchen table, to find my phone.

Not expecting to get an answer since Harry and the boys are in the studio, I'm caught by surprise when Harry picks up after the second ring.

"Good morning," He speaks softly, obviously aware of the throbbing headache that I'm expected to be suffering from. The thought behind his actions doesn't go unnoticed.

inspirations // harry stylesWhere stories live. Discover now