About (Harry Styles)

74.

Elaine's POV

As the alarm clock sets off at seven AM sharp, I'm already awake, eyes staring into the white ceiling with the utmost impatience. I've been up for the past two hours, unable to fall back asleep, tossing back and forth in the sheets, glancing every now and then at the glowing red numbers only to see a minute has passed by every time.

There's no doubt in my mind what the source for my trouble sleeping -- there was something missing.  Someone missing.  This was the first time in five years that I have slept by myself and woke up to nobody else in the room but me.  Even when Charlotte wasn't born yet, I was never alone. 

Not wanting to waste one more second, I roll out of bed and shoot India a text that I'm on my way to pick up Charlotte.

I throw on some manageable clothes and decide to skip breakfast. My appetite has been nonexistent since last night.  Besides, there's no one to cook for anyway.  Chris suddenly stumbles out from the bathroom and I lean back to see him wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue briefs, reminding me that having Charlotte sleep over at my friend's place wasn't so bad after all.

I'd give him a good scolding if Charlotte was here to witness him like this.

Though I'm still upset with him, I won't hold anything against him. He's done so much for the both of us. I can't ever repay him for that.

"You okay?"

He glances at me and squints, the light of the morning blinding him.

"Yeah, fine," he mumbles while scratching his head of a bird nest. "How did I get here last night?"

"I've no clue. I was wondering that myself. Do you remember anything from last night?"

"Ummm .. " he scratches his head again and pouts his lips as he searches through his mind. "I remember eating dinner ... And then  ... I don't remember the rest. I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

Stupid is not even close.

Unable to remind him of what he did, I only remain silent, the lingering quietness enough for him to understand.

"Oh God. I'm so sorry. If I did something wrong. You know how --"

"I know. It's okay. People do stupid things when they're drunk."

"People also do stupid things when they're sober," he chuckles.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he sighs heavily. "I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about."

Chris turns around to his room, which really isn't even a room. It's a small storage room, just big enough to fit a twin bed and a dresser for his clothes. There are no windows, barely any space for walking. And I've always felt bad for taking his room.

"Wait Chris."

He whips back around as he reaches the door.

"Yeah."

"Please put on a shirt."

He rolls his eyes and laughs, the events from yesterday already erased from both of our minds. There's no reason to remember what happened.