From The Dining Table [H.S]

She's Special

Harry's POV:

"Shit that's bright!" I groan to myself as I rub my eyes. My head is thumping from the night before. Why did I drink that much? Ugh, and I still have all that shit to clean up in the other room. I go to pull myself off the couch, but am startled when I notice a figure lying next to me, fast asleep.

What. The. Fuck.

Who the fuck is this? Oh for fuck sake, please don't tell me I called a prostitute while I was drunk!

Cautiously, I peer over the girls shoulder, attempting to see the face snuggled beneath the blanket. "Primrose?" I say to myself, in utter disbelief she's here. What the fuck happened last night? I don't care, she's here. Primrose is here, and that makes all the destruction last night worth it. Lowering slowly, I place light kisses on her shoulder, while wrapping my arm around her waist.

"Hmmmm." She hums at the feeling, rolling over to face me and rubbing her eyes. "Morning." She mumbles, focusing her eyes on me.

That's not Primrose.

I leap off the sofa, grabbing a pillow to cover myself with as I stare down at the stranger in my bed. "Who the fuck are you?" I ask bluntly.

"Emily? Harry, don't act like you don't remember last night. If you want me to leave, I'll leave. But don't be rude about it." She spits at me, wrapping the blanket around herself as she pulls herself off the sofa and begins looking for her clothes.

I rub the bridge of my nose, trying to piece together the minor memories I have of last night. "I... I remember leaving the house. And I went on a walk..." I say to myself, as Emily slips her underwear on under the blanket. She doesn't even look at me as she shoves past me to find her dress. "Then I bumped into someone, a girl - you! Then you apologised, and I invited you back to mine..." I trail off, remembering everything that happened.

"Yes, and then we slept together. And now, I'm leaving. Look, I get if you're going through a break up, which would explain why you were drunk at 8:30pm. I get why you wanted to sleep with me if I'm right in what I just said, but I would really appreciate you don't treat me like that when you wake up. Like I'm some skank." She darts at me, while slipping into her dress.

"I don't think you're a skank, Emily." I begin, causing her to pause in her movements and look up at me confused. "I saw you the other day, in the coffee shop, you were writing. You look a lot like a girl I haven't seen in a while, and in my drunken state I must've thought you were her. I'm sorry." I apologise.

Shit! I'm such an awful person. This poor girl.

"Primrose?" She questions.

My eyes widen at the mention of her name, as I remember everything that happened yesterday on the phone. "Uhm, yeah. Yeah, that's her name. Did I-,"

"Did you come up to me in the street and shout Primrose after I apologised? Yeah, you did. But it's fine, no hard feelings." She laughs, as she walks out my living room to the front door. I trail behind her, scooping up the blanket she wasn't using anymore to cover myself.

"I'm so sorry. Do you need a ride home?" I offer, hoping she accepts my gesture.

"No, thank you. It was nice to meet you, Harry. Thank you for last night." Emily says kindly, before opening the front door and leaving. She gave a sweet smile before she gently shut the door behind her.

"Shit." I say to myself, as I look around the room covered with pillows and my clothes. As I begin tidying, I can't help but think about Primrose. I wonder what she's doing. I pray she isn't hurting. She sounded so let down on the phone after she found out who I was. You would think I'm mad at whoever told her - but I'm not, I'm pleased. She's right, it was selfish of me not to tell her. But when she shouted at me for taking her home that night... that hurt.