stalker || harry styles

9

*Sami*

I awoke the following morning with a pounding headache and instant regrets. 

As I fought to blink my eyes open, I nearly screamed realizing I wasn't in my bed. Where the fuck was I? Please tell me I didn't go home with somebody. As I began to panic, the bedroom door creaked open and in popped Harry. Please lord. Please tell me we didn't sleep together. Though I was relieved to see a familiar face, I in no way wanted to have sex with him.

"Good morning sleepyhead. How ya feeling?" His voice was raspy and slower than normal, if that was even remotely possible. He was wearing pajamas, had two cups in either of his hands, and overall he just looked so much softer than normal. It suited him. I stared at him in disbelief for several moments, and only then did I notice I wasn't in my clothes, but was in fact in his. I was absolutely mortified, as I struggled to find the correct words. "We didn't, d-did we?" 

Harrys face flushed, and he rapidly began shaking his head. "No, no, no. I promise." He handed me one of the cups, and I sighed in relief. "Why am I wearing your clothes then?" "You wanted something a bit more comfortable." He smiled and sat down on the available spot beside me, and sipped from his own cup. Bringing the mug to my lips, I was instantly filled with the warmth of chamomile tea. "Did you change me?" I mumbled into my mug.

Once more, his face heated up as he shook his head. "Uh I mean, kinda?" My eyes widened as I reached over and slapped his leg. "You pervert." His face was bright red at this point, as he jumped up from the bed. "No, wait. I didn't see anything, I just kind-" I cut him off by laughing, and moved a strand of hair behind my ear. "Harry, relax. I'm only toying with you. I appreciate you taking care of me." His demeanor immediately relaxed, as he sat beside me again. "Don't do that shit." He tried to look tough, but couldn't help himself from cracking a smile. "Where's the rest of the gang?" I asked, shuffling a bit. "Everybody went home last night besides Liam and Louis. They're both passed out on the couches downstairs." 

I laughed lightly and took another sip from the tea. "What time is it?" "About nine-thirty." At least I didn't oversleep. I nodded, and stood from his bed; stretching in the process. "You feel sick at all?" He asked, setting his mug on his bedside dresser. "Surprisingly, no. I have a small headache, but it's not bad at all." He looked a bit shocked as he nodded his head and crossed his arms. "Damn. Good for you. I mean, would you still like something to eat?" He offered, raising an eyebrow. "I could always eat, but I can cook." Harry laughed as he collected his mug from his dresser. "Don't be ridiculous. You're the guest." 

I scoffed as I walked up beside him and pat his arm. "But I'm also a culinary major." "Let me attempt at least, and if I fail you can make up for me." I laughed again, but decided against arguing. "Fine. I guess I'll let you try." 

As Harry prepared breakfast, the two of us made smalltalk. It was actually a nice change of pace for once, instead of the two of us constantly fighting with one another. I knew it wouldn't last, so I was soaking up this moment as much as possible. About thirty minutes after we came downstairs, Louis woke up; and Liam did about fifteen minutes after him. The four of us ate slowly, and talked about a bunch of random shit; and I had to admit that I loved it. 

By the time we were all finished, it was half past eleven and I figured I should go home and freshen up a bit. "If you want Sam, you can come back over later? We were thinking of going swimming." Liam smiled at me, as he began to scrub at his dishes. Shrugging, I handed him my dish which he took from me. "Sure. If you don't mind." Louis wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me back into a hug. "Course not. You're part of the gang now. All you need is a tattoo." I laughed and playfully shoved him off me. "Not happening." I was deathly afraid of needles.