Pain //h.s [Editing]

Chapter~ Twenty Eight

Please read the a/n at the end!

Chapter Twenty Eight~
{Riley's pov}

I groan as I feel a headache start and I slowly open my eye while I lift my head up. My head was resting on a rather hard surface and I suspect that is the cause of my headache. Once my eyes are fully open and my mind is cleared up, I notice I'm on Harry's couch and the hard surface was Harry's chest. He's half sitting up, half lying down and it looks rather strange. The lack of space on the couch and the way we seemed to be lying all night would explain why my sleep was so uncomfortable.

"Harry." I shake him, lightly calling his name. I'm not sure what time it is but the sun is shinning bright and I can already hear people outside. When Harry doesn't budge, I try again. "Harry, wake up." I shake him again and his eyes shoot open.

"What? What happened?" He rushes out in a loud voice and looks around the room frantically. I laugh so hard at his reaction that I clutch my stomach and lean over the edge of the couch. Either he was dreaming about something very serious or I startled him pretty bad.

"Calm down, I was only trying to wake you up." I giggle and he looks at me and breaks out into a smile. It's odd to be laughing with him first thing in the morning knowing what happened yesterday, or more accurately, not knowing what happened yesterday. I still don't even know what the cause of what happened is and I doubt he is willing to tell me. He already made it clear that he wasn't going to tell me and it still upsets me. I got over it yesterday for the sake of argument but now that I'm thinking about it again, I want to know who that guy was and why Harry was hitting him. But I won't push it, not now.

"Looks like we fell asleep watching the movie." He looks around the room. I then notice that the bowl of popcorn is flipped upside down on the floor with a small amount of popcorn littering around it. And one of the throw pillows is also on the floor and I assume one of us probably kicked it off the couch in our sleep.

"My head hurts so bad. Your chest isn't squishy enough." I whine in pretending annoyance and flop down behind him, resting my head on the arm rest and getting a great view of his back.

"Well I'm sorry I'm so fit." He laughs and stands up, turning to face me.

He looks at me and furrows his eyebrows. Acting as though something upset him. I become paranoid and move my hand up to my face with a raised eyebrow.

"Is there something wrong?"

"What? No, no! It's just that, your eyes are still a bit puffy." He tells me and he sits back down on the couch.

"Oh, yeah I guess it's probably because I went to sleep just after crying." I shrug as if it's not a big deal.

"Are you still mad at me?" He looks at me with a serious expression.

"I'm not mad." I shake my head.

"Yes you are." He nods as though he's sure.

"No, I'm not mad, I'm upset." I tell him.

"What's the difference?"

"If I was mad I would either be ignoring you or yelling at you. Upset means I'm frustrated and confused." I explain to him.

"So why are you still upset?" He grabs my hands in his and forces me to look at him.

"I don't want to talk about it now, Harry. We just woke up and I want the day to start off good." I tell him and pull my hands away from his.

"Why? We might as well talk about what's upsetting you now." He turns my face towards him again.

"You know what's upsetting me, Harry, and you have already told me that you won't be explaining anything so what's the point?" I raise my voice in annoyance. We went over this yesterday and he settled it by telling me he wasn't explaining it and that was final. So why does he want to talk about it now? He isn't going to tell me anything so what's the point of getting mad at each other over it?