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Moody

The next morning, Freddie was surprised to see that she was now in her bedroom. She could remember being on the roof the night before, and she could partially remember Harry carrying her; however, she was not pleased with herself for having allowed him to do it. She had tried to wake up when she had felt his arms reach beneath her, but the heaviness of her eye-lids had been too great to keep from succumbing to the alcohol-induced exhaustion she had brought down upon herself. It wasn't that she didn't want Harry to touch her; she just felt terrible that after the way he had ignored his advice, he was having to literally pick her up off the ground once everything went to shit. She truly didn't deserve him or his kindness towards her.

After laying in bed for several minutes, Freddie at last decided that she would get up and eat something. Her stomach turned as she moved, but still, she knew she should at least eat some toast despite the bit of nausea that came from her over-drinking. She realized that it was probably far later than it normally was when she got up for work, but she didn't concern herself with it. She had emailed her boss when she had gotten on the subway yesterday, telling him that she was not feeling well at all and that she would probably be out the following day too.

Forcing herself out of bed, Freddie wearily made her way to the kitchen, where she was surprised to see Harry sitting at the table with his morning coffee and half-eaten biscuit sitting in front of him. He looked up to her, smiling with an obvious sense of pity in his expression. He probably did pity her, and that made Freddie want to go hide in her room again. After all, Harry had seen more of her foolishness than anyone she knew, and his sympathy only reminded her of it.

Nonetheless, Freddie smiled in return, mumbling a good morning to him before walking over to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of water. Her head sort of hurt, but until she ate something, she couldn't take any ibuprofen to prevent the headache from fully developing.

"How are you feeling today?" Harry asked her quietly, setting his book down and shutting it.

Freddie turned herself to face him, though she kept her eyes cast down at the ground. "Alright, I guess. Just kind of hungover."

"Are you hungry? I can make you something." Harry looked as if he were about to stand, but Freddie waved him off before he could move.

"No, I'm okay," she told him, though really, she knew she wasn't. Her hangover only served to remind her of why she had starting drinking the night before, as did the numerous cupcakes sitting in her refrigerator. Upon seeing those, she felt even more guilty, because she knew that Harry had been the one to put everything away. And cleaned the kitchen. And taken care of her when she had sobbed like a pathetic little bitch. That's fucking embarrassing.

Now that she really thought about her actions from the night before, she could hardly stand to face Harry at all. Because not only had he done all these things for her, but he knew. Harry knew the truth about her relationship with Damien, and facing him meant having to face the grievous mistakes she had made. She didn't want to do that just yet.

Thus, hoping to ignore her own issues, Freddie gave her excuse to be alone: "I'm just going to have some toast or something so I can have some ibuprofen, then I'll probably go back to bed."

Harry frowned, evidently disappointed; however, it was clear to Freddie that he was doing his best to hide it. With his eyes darting away from her, Harry nodded several times and attempted to smile. "Oh– oh yeah, that's probably a good idea. You should– you should get some rest, yeah."

Harry took a long sip of his coffee and began to pick at the biscuit in front of him, keeping his focus entirely fixed on the table. He looked conflicted, even a little upset, and seeing him, who had only treated her with kindness time and time again, made Freddie's heart ache. She wanted to be alone, but how could she when to do so would hurt him? But then again, she had been hurting a lot of people lately, so maybe one more wouldn't make much of a difference.