"I'm okay." I quietly spoke, not wanting my bad breath to hit him so hard it castrates him. "You're not too bad, either."

"Whatever," He grumbled, sitting up from the uncomfortable surface as the single bed sheet covered his legs. He checked the time, squinting once he found it was 6PM. "We've slept for four hours."


"Let's just, uh- go downstairs? See what's happening." He spoke in a tired daze, softly rubbing his eyes straight after.

I crawled to my knees, letting the bed sheet fall gracefully from my naked body as I stood clumsily to my feet. Harry knelt towards me with a smirk, his arms wrapping gently around the back of my legs as his chin nuzzled against my navel with his lips softly kissing my abdomen.

Running my fingers through his soft, brown hair, I attempted to tug him back. But he trailed his lips down further and further, with his eyes looking up at mine.

"Come on," He whispered tenderly against my skin. "Just... Sit on my face-"

"No." I laughed.

"But why?" He falsely pouted, and then continued to kiss my skin.

"Later, I just want to move around."

"But you will," He begged. "You'll be writhing against my tongue."

"I said no."

He gave me yet another over dramatic pout. "Okay."

We changed back into our clothes, but not before we went to the bathroom. I smacked on some deodorant and brushed my teeth before scrambling my hair into yet another ponytail.

Harry wore his same old black shirt and jeans (which I think were mine)and put his hair into a ponytail. He then took my hand and ran downstairs, dragging me along with him. Harry came to a swift stop once we were in the back room of the parlour, where Gina, Clyde and a few other employees had a quiet drink without us. I stood shyly beside Harry with my arms around his waist, and he kept his arms around me.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" Gina asked.

"It would have been nice if we were given an actual bed." Harry playfully rolled his eyes.

"I run a tattoo parlour, not a hotel. So sorry if you're not given five star luxury as per usual." She slurred, which informed me that she was a little drunk.

Harry cleared his throat and peered closer to the table where they all sat. "What are you drinking?"

"All sorts." Gina laughs into her glass.

"Can you give me the specifics?"

"Here, drink mine," She ushered, holding her glass in front of Harry as he sickly shook his head.

"Let me pour one myself." He mumbled.

His hands searched for the bottle but Gina snatched it away. "Finish mine-"

"Gina, please," He almost begged as his breaths became quicker and quicker. "I don't like drinking from glasses I haven't poured myself, I don't know what's in them."

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