Nothing is Perfect

0:10

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ
ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ
﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

After taking pictures with Cassandra. Dahlia went back to the dance floor and danced with Elle, Debby, Olivia, and Becca; the girls were having fun. Dahlia didn't remember having this much fun at a party; she was going to consider this prom a party her fourth one.

She was growing tired and felt like throwing up, "I'm going to go home," Dahlia said to Debby, who was dancing with Olivia.

She wasn't sure if Debby heard her, but she was making her way out stumbling; a few people were already leaving, mostly couples were gone.

"Let me take you home," Harry suggested opening the door for her "fuck," she said, getting startled by his sudden appearance. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

The drive to her house was quiet; she enjoyed it; Dahlia leaned against the cold window of Harry's car.

She unlocked her house, taking her heels off and leaving them in the middle of the hall Harry moved them out of the way. Her eyes felt heavy; she needed to go to sleep, "I'm going to go to sleep," she said out loud.

Harry just stood there as he saw her walk down the stairs, he rushed to her side as he saw her struggling "thank you, what a gentleman" Dahlia smiled at him he placed his hand on her back, keeping her balance as she took a step after another.

She covered her mouth and quickly rushed to the restroom; she fell to the floor by the toilet and threw up; Harry held her hair out of the way.

He wanted to tell her I told you so, but it wasn't the moment.

After she was done throwing up, she washed her mouth and walked to her bed "why did you let me drink," she complained, entering her room.

"Trust me, it would have been worse if I let you pour yourself the alcohol," he answered her, following to her room.

She dropped herself in her bed, Harry went to her closet and got a shirt and some sweatpants, "Here, put this on you have puke on your dress" he handed her the clothes.

"What oh no" she looked down and in fact, she had a few spots on her dress she wanted to cry it was a new dress that her mother had bought for her and she already got it dirty.

"Hey, it's ok; I think it can wash off," he told her when he saw the frown on her face.

"My mom is going to kill me," she mumbled, trying to take her dress off; she was struggling with pulling the zipper down.

"Help me...please," she gestured with her hands to Harry. Her back was facing him; he slowly unzipped her dress, halfway she could do the rest quickly Harry turned around when Dahlia continued to unzip her dress, and he realized she didn't have a bra on.

She put on her shirt and decided not to put on the sweatpants since the shirt was long enough "you can turn around now," she said as she lay in bed with her blanket on top of her and her dress and sweatpants on the floor.

He hesitated but turned around, "Goodnight, flower" he was going to walk out the door when her voice stopped him "wait, you can stay, it's late besides you don't like the people that are at your house," she let out a yawn and got comfortable in bed.

He couldn't argue that he didn't like them, so he walked to her bed and took off his shoes.

He lay in bed, leaving space in the middle "goodnight Harry," she mumbled half-asleep.

Dahlia woke up the next morning with a mild headache, her phone that was on the nightstand next to her bed buzzing with notifications.

Harry was sitting down on her bed next to her, his back leaning against the bed frame with a shocked expression on his face as he saw his phone.