moonlight {h.s}

junk

Sydney

My eyes painfully peeled opened to light beaming into my bedroom. I was delirious, and tired, trying my best to piece together everything.

I looked around me, realising I was in my room and in my bed. Slowly, I began to sit up, instantly feeling my head pounding and a sick feeling building in my stomach.

It didn't go away, so I jumped out of bed and threw myself into my bathroom, beginning to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl.

An acidy taste was left in my mouth after, as I used my towel railing to pull me up off the ground. My head was still killing me, as I walked back into my room and grabbed my phone off of my night stand.

I let out a long and defeated breath, as I looked through my notifications. I had 37 missed calls, texts from all of my friends and even my mother.

My mother. Shit. I had to go to the fitting.

I unlocked my phone, and listened to the voice mail she had left me. I needed to be there, dressed and showered in 20 minutes.

Once it was over, I threw my phone on my bed and jumped into the shower.

My usual morning routine was sped up, causing me to get shampoo in my eye. I also almost was sick twice.

Last nights events were a complete blur, and I still didn't know how I got home or what happened. I just knew I needed to get to the fitting, and not piss my mum off more.

I got out of the shower, quickly brushed my teeth and hair. Then I pulled out some simple leggings, and an oversized jumper. Fittings required a simple outfit, as I'd be changing as soon as I arrived.

My hair was still wet, but I didn't have time to deal with it. I quickly rubbed my towel over it, and gathered all my stuff together.

My coat was on my floor, so I grabbed it and threw it over my back. My black leather healed boots sat at the end of my bed, so I grabbed them, and pulled them on.

I used a hair grip to pull some of my hair back, and finally grabbed my car keys.

I pushed my door open into my living room, and stepped in. The answers to all my questions sat on my sofa, a cup of black coffee in his hand.

"Harry."

He gave me an apprehensive smile, clutching his mug tightly. Clearly he had crashed on the couch after whatever happened last night.

I realised I didn't have time for this long conversation that was due. I had somewhere to be, and I needed painkillers and a coffee.

"Look I'm so sorry about last night, whatever state I was in...I'm sorry. It got out of hand and I...I'll sort myself out okay." I walked into my kitchen, beginning to make an expresso to go.

"Syd it's okay, can we talk about what happened? Are you okay? Where are you going?" He stood up from the sofa, wearing no shirt and jeans from yesterday.

"I'm going to a fitting for my mom's show, I have to go I'm sorry." I shuffled through my cupboards, searching for from Ibuprofen.