Harri Donavon (Damon Salvatore fic)

Chapter 6

I know it wasn't mine or Stefan's so it's either Damon's or another guest room.

As I tried to look and see where exactly I was vomiting, more sick rose from my stomach which caused me to stick my head into the toilet once again.

Panting hard, I wiped my mouth and forehead with the back of my hand as sweat had began to gather on my temples.

Ok, I guess it was as bad idea to drink all that bourbon.

Letting my eyes droop closed, I massaged my head with my fingers as I attempted to shift the horrible feeling from my body.

I didn't feel like I was going to be sick again so I reached for the flush and pressed the button after setting down the toilet seat.

Coughing slightly at the lingering burning feeling at the back of my throat, I rubbed at my eyes and opened them to find there was someone standing and watching me.

"Ugh, what?" I moaned, my head still dizzy and my voice still slurring slightly.

"You're in my room, it should be me asking 'what'." Came an arrogant reply and I groaned internally.

Well, internally and externally it seems as Damon spoke again "Charming. Get out of my room, I'm not in the mood Harri."

"Well you're going to have to help me since it was your bourbon that's rendered me to a spork." I muttered.

Shaking his head as he walked over to me, Damon picked me up like it was no effort at all and began to take me into my bedroom.

"Is Stefan ok?" I asked softly, looking at the side of his face and I saw his jaw tighten slightly.

"My little brother is fine." He replied bluntly, using his back to open my door and slipping me onto my bed.

"Sleep Harri, it'll be better in the morning." Damon sighed as I curled into my covers and closed my eyes.

I hoped everything would be ok... I could sense that there was something Damon wasn't telling me.

~~~

Nope. Just nope. Someone literally just shoot me right now. Death would be better than the throbbing pain that was currently residing in my head.

So Damons words of 'it'll be better in the morning' was utter crap as I attempted to push myself up off my bed but all I did was let my head tumble back down into my pillow.

I literally felt like someone hit run me over with a truck at least 39 times before throwing me off a cliff.

That's how bad I felt.

Nevertheless, my throat was dry and I needed a drink. Of water that is. Not touching alcohol again for at least a day.

Eventually I managed to get out of bed whilst grabbing onto anything I could reach so I wouldn't fall down from how dizzy my head was.

Just as I reached the door, it opened, forcing me backwards and landing on my butt.

"Jesus!" I cried, my heart jumping from the scare and my head throbbing from the sudden rush of movement.

I found Elena standing at the door with a slightly confused and worried expression.

"Harri? Are you ok?" She stepped so she was beside me and helped me up slowly.

"Ugh, if you define having the worst hangover ever ok then yea, I'm dandy." I muttered, rubbing my temple with my fingers.

With an arm around my waist and my hand in hers, Elena helped me all the way down the stairs and to the parlour where she let me drop onto the sofa as she went to get me a drink.