My head was throbbing erratically as I felt two hands grasp hold of my ample arms, slumping my whole body into nothing but a soft, gentle mattress. Last night was a complete blur, but fuck, I bet I had a great time.
I smirked into my plump pillow sheepishly, keeping my eyes closed for now as I inhaled the frest scent of lemon washing powder. Dad needed to wash my pillows with this more often, they smelt amazing, especially when I had the hangover from hell. I had no idea what I even took last night for me to get into such a state, but it was worth it. The only way to make it better would be if I had a hot girl lying next to me.
I extended my arm out next to me, hopefully to get a fondle of some slut I met the night before, who was foolish enough to get with me. But... nothing. Shit, I guess I didn't get lucky last night. That was definitely a first, I must've had someone cockblocking me, because I always get fucked at every party. Especially that it was at my house- wait, shit. I had to clean before my parents got home.
I snapped my eyes open in a quick hurry, and I soon regretted it as I realised I was not in my bedroom. Holy shit, where was I? I had to squint my eyes closed momentarily as the pearly white walls surrounded me. I groaned as I pulled myself from the mattress and into a weak sitting position, softly rubbing my tired eyes before opening them. I was too scared to even look where I was.
And right then, I knew I should've never opened my eyes as soon as I saw my father glaring at me in an arm chair. I parted my plump lips in shock, cursing to myself for letting my mates get me in such a state. When I get home I'm going to fucking kill them. But right now, I had some explaining to do.
"D-Dad, hey!" I said, like nothing ever happened and I still had this impossible theory of being the perfect son. But to him, there was no chance.
"Do you want to take a guess where we are?" He said sternly, such an unimpressed scowl on his face as I nervously shrugged my shoudlers at him. I eyed my surroundings, noticing a metal bedside table and the plastic railings along the bed I was comfortably in. Shit.
"Uh- am I in... Uh-"
"We're in a hospital, Harry!" Dad barked, crossing his arms before letting out a disappointed sigh. My face went still, not sure how to take that new information. Great, I must've been pretty fucked last night.
"You got knocked out cold by a couple of guys." he tutted in unexcitement, and I didn't really know why he was so disappointed with me over something so stupid. I obviously didn't remember something like that, so I find it rather funny that I got knocked out. I probably deserved it. I was a right douche when I was high.
"Nothing out of the ordinary." I smirked, and his scowl hardened as he fiercely brought up his right hand and smacked my leg with a loud thump.
"They were drug dealers!" He roared along with slamming his fists on either side of his arm chair. "You brought them into my home!"
"Now I see why they beat me up." I chuckled to myself. God, I forgot about Marco and Stephen. I owed them a couple of hundred, and I told them to come to the party so I could give them the money. Well, that didn't turn out well.
"I can't believe my own flesh and blood is using those disgusting drugs!" He screamed in anger, and I didn't flinch one bit at him. He caught me a few times before with drugs. And it was always the same old, 'I promise not to do it again,' but I always did.
"Okay, okay," I ushered to him as his bright red face softened at me. "I'll stop doing them. Happy?"
"You must be stupid if you think I'm going to believe your shit," he warned me with his evil eye. "I don't think you realise how much stuff you and your friends damaged last night-"
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Call Boy. (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) on holdFanfiction
Harley Thomas; an anxiously wrecked Christian who thrives on judging those who sin. Harry Styles; an emotionally wrecked Atheist who thrives on sinning.