espionage [h.s.]

SIXTY FOUR

A.N. i was going to cut this chapter in half, but i thought that you've all been waiting long enough so why not have it in full. hope you enjoy, i have a feeling you will x

ROCHELLE

I wake up with a throbbing headache that I can feel behind my eyes, groaning and wrenching the covers back over my head at the glimpse of sunlight streaming through the window. I suspected that having as many drinks as I did last night probably wasn't the best idea, but now I know it wasn't. In the moment, I thought it might help to ease the tension between Harry and I, but after that weird half-serious, half-fake fight which ended up with me straddling him, it seemed like the tension went the other way, which definitely wasn't what either of us intended.

There's no clock in the room so I'm not sure what time it is, but it's not like I have anything to do so I try to burrow back under the covers, hoping to fall back asleep. However, it's quite impossible to do so on account of the fact that it feels like my head is going to fall off, and also because every time I close my eyes, all I can picture is mine and Harry's bodies pressed against each other last night. The memory is so vivid that I can almost feel Harry's breath steadily drumming against my face as he stares up at me, practically able to smell the scent of whiskey on his breath and see the forest green of his eyes as they gaze into mine. I roughy shake my head as if that'll dispel the images from my mind, but all it does it just make my headache worse, causing me to groan deeply into the pillow.

Eventually, I manage to drag myself out of bed and groggily pad over to the en-suite bathroom, not even bothering to open the blinds or turn on the light as I undress and step into the warm shower. I try to distract myself by lathering shower gel onto my body, but even as I'm busy with that my mind drifts back over to Harry again, wondering what he's doing right now. He drank just as much as me, probably even more, so I can't imagine he's feeling his best either. As I close my eyes and move my head under the spray of water, it dawns on me that I've never really seen Harry drunk before, on the account of the fact that we weren't allowed much alcohol at the EEI, so that means I've never seen him hungover either. Maybe he's right, maybe I don't know him as much as I thought I did.

Sadly, I'm not really feeling much better when I get out of the shower, my headache still pulsating in my temples which I attempt to soothe by rubbing them, but it doesn't really help much. Sighing heavily, I bend down to grab my duffel bag that I still haven't bothered to unpack yet, tossing it onto the bed and rummaging through it for some clothes to change into. Just as I'm pulling out a shirt, I suddenly feel something hard brush against my hand, my eyebrows furrowing as I feel around the bag for whatever it is. Eventually I figure out that it's something in one of the inner pockets, so I unzip one of those and reach in. My eyes almost bulge out of my head when I realise that Harry's rose ring is now in the centre of my palm.