Freedom with Styles (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) [COMPLETE]

Drunken Haze

CHAPTER ELEVEN – Drunken Haze

He laid there, his eyes unfocused, a lazy grin on his face, and the smell of alcohol coming off him in heavy, stinking waves.

But that’s not what I was focusing on.

No, I was staring at the smattering of bruises all across his cheekbones, jaw and left eye. His lip was purple and had two cuts on his bottom lips. His t-shirt had ridden up, and I could see more discoloured skin along his mid-section.

Who the f*ck did this?

“Harry?” I murmured softly, and his eyes, which had been wandering around the place, snapped back to mine, and he grinned once more.

“Kirianaaa. I think you’re soooo pretty” he exclaimed, struggling to stand upright. He lifted his arm and saw it dripping in chocolate chip ice cream. “Are you having a party? I love parties. Will you party with me?” he cried, finally managing to scrabble to his feet, and looked at me with wide doe eyes.

I sighed, looking over him in concern. Now that I could see him more clearly, I saw a trickle of blood coming from his scalp, and that area of his hair was matted and dark with blood. I gently took his hand. I had to get him out of here, or else some old lady taking a peak out her window will see me covered in random crap, staring up at some drunk, and will call the police.

I grabbed his hand, and lead him towards my house.

“Yeah I’ll party with you Harry. Just come along now” I told him, and he walked behind me obediently, babbling happily about tacos and a bird named Kevin. I brushed my hands over his knuckles and felt something rough and tender. I looked down and saw his knuckles were a raw red, the skin peeled back in some places, and bleeding in others. Around the edges, I could see the same mottled purple that covered his other injuries.

He suddenly hiccupped, and the smell of vodka once again filled the air. I grimaced. I had to get Harry fixed up and sober…soon.

15 minutes later, we arrived at my house, and I sat Harry on the couch.

“Stay” I told him sternly, before going in search of a first aid kit.

“Woof woof” Harry barked suddenly, right behind me. I jumped, hitting my head on the shelf of the cabinet I was currently looking in. I cursed, rubbing my head and turned, only to see Harry with his head down, tears in his eyes.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm. He whimpered, before dropping on all fours and rubbing his head against my legs.

“I’m sorry Masterrrr. Harry was a baaaad boy. Harry left the couch” he cried, curling closer to my feet. Is it wrong that I got a little bit turned on at that moment?

Me as Harry’s Master. Ordering Harry to do things. Punishing Harry for being naughty. Mm-mmm. Yeah, I do like that image.

But I really should not be thinking things like that when Harry’s inebriated. I chuckled lightly. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Shouldn’t the guy be struggling to keep his hands to himself while the girl is drunk?

I petted Harry’s head and he made a light purring sound before jumping up and hugging me.

“I lurrrvvvv you Kiriana!” he chirped happily, and I think my heart stopped. Holy sh*t. Drunk or not, that is some serious sh*t. Besides, drunken words are sober thoughts! F*ck yeah!

“Um, let’s get you cleaned up, and you can go take a shower once I’m done” I told him, blushing furiously. He smirked, leaned down and breathed across my ear.

“Will you join me?” he asked, and as much as I really wanted to, his vodka breath kept my mind focused.

“Go sit on the couch Harry” I told him, and he winked.