This story does not belong to me. I am rewriting the story, since it got deleted from Watt-pad. It is one of my favorite fan-fictions, and I really don't want to see it go. So once again this story does not belong to me.
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Mollie POV
...
My eyes slowly flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. When did I fall asleep? I rub my tired eyes, yawning in the process.
I suddenly freeze, realizing that I am not alone. I snap my head to the side, disturbed at who I see.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I harshly speak, removing my legs from Harrys' and shrugging off a cardigan that was on me. Whose was this?
"Sitting." He states, raising one eyebrow.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"A while." He speaks with such ease.
"Well why didn't you wake me?" I immediately stand up, "I wanted to be home by 12!"
"Oh I'm sorry," he sarcastically mocks, "I didn't want to wake you!"
"Well you should of."
He frowns, standing up beside me.
"If I woke you up, you would have moaned, so either way I am going to lose right?"
I grunt, shaking my head. I can't believe I fell asleep. I didn't want to be here at this time of night. It's going to take Stella and I ages to get home!
"Where's Stella? We need to go." I forcefully speak, beginning to walk up the garden.
"She's in bed." Harry calmly responds, causing me to stop.
"What? Whose?"
"Nialls."
"Why?!" The anger boils up.
"Because she is too drunk to even walk Mollie, Niall was being a gentleman and let her stay." He steps a little closer, still quite a big gap between us. "You can too if you want?"
My face twists.
"There is no way I am staying here! Where would I even sleep!?"
He shrugs, not looking too bothered by my concerns.
"No thanks. I'm walking home." I huff, collecting my bag from the outdoors table.
"You're joking tight?" His voice raises, "It's 1:30 and you want to walk back home through the streets of London. Are you mad?"
"No. But I'm not staying here!" I yell, striding towards the gate.
"Why don't you just order a taxi?" Harry questions, following my every move.
"Because I don't have any money on me."
"Well then I'll drive you." He suggests, digging in his pockets for his keys.
"No." I bluntly reply. "I don't want you to give me a lift home. I'll be fine okay? So just leave it."
"It's over an hours walk to your house from here. Why won't you let me drive you?" There's a mixture of confusion, anger and annoyance in his voice. All sending me mixed signals about how he felt about the idea.
"I just don't. I can walk home you know? I am capable."
"I never said you weren't." He growls "I'm just saying it's dangerous out."
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