A/N: Thankyou for understanding why I haven't updated xxx
Primroses POV:
"Harry did this?" Angels voice falls to a whisper of disbelief, lightly raising my arm into the light to examine the hand shaped bruise my wrist was wearing as a bracelet. "Primrose... what happened?" He exhaled his words shakily, looking up at me with weary eyes.
"Uhm..." I struggle to talk as all I can do is stare in confusion at how calm Angel is about all of this. I mean, he isn't exactly in love with Harry right now; I figured he would've driven himself to London and shot him as soon as he saw the bruises.
"We just- well, basically... Dan happened." I breathe in harshly, Angel's eyes widening at the unexpected mention, dropping my wrist carefully to my side. "He messaged me, and called me. Harry picked up, Harry got mad. You know how he gets with Dan: defensive and protective for me. And then I started to panic. Like an attack, and-," My explanation is mismatched fragments of sentences as I struggle to hold back my tears. Angel wraps me in a hug, guiding me to sit with him at the sofa as a few glossy beads tare down my skin.
I was crying, but I didn't know why. I couldn't decide whether I was just traumatised, if talking to someone about it just overwhelmed me, or if I'm still hurt by what Harry did.
"Take a deep breath." Angel speaks quietly, and I do as he instructs: steadying my breaths and clearing my eyes for a few seconds. "Now, tell me what happened."
"Dan messaged me from his new number, and he then called me. Harry got super angry and started yelling at him, then a little bit at me which almost sent me into a panic attack. But, I forced myself to follow him and then I went to take the phone and he just grabbed me." Angel gasps as I finish my sentence, and I flatten my lips into a line, nodding as if I were agreeing with his shocked state.
"Please don't hate Harry any more than you already do." I feel the need to plead out, taking his hands in mine as I look at him through my teary eyes.
"Primrose, I-"
"I know you really don't like me being with him, and I know you probably want to kill him, but I need you to believe me when I say that he didn't mean it." The words practically fall from my mouth as Angel listens silently and expressionlessly.
"He loves me, Angel. He's in love with me."
"And you're in love with him." Angel continues my thought, wiping a tear away from under my eye.
I nod, slouching into his lap so we were both lounged against the sofa.
"Primrose, I know I've been vocal about my feelings on Harry, but I could never hate someone you love. I just want the best for you, which is why I believe you when you tell me he didn't mean to hurt you. But I will always have my suspicions, because I only want the best for you." He kisses my forehead, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly.
"Will you still come tonight?" I question, sitting up slightly so he could hear me clearly.
"Of course. Who would I be to pass up spending New Years Eve at Harry Styles' house?"
After Harry and I left his family house, he drove me to a train station so I could spend a few days at home and pack some different clothes. Harry suggested we spend new years together, so I invited him to mine, however he insisted I bring myself and Angel to London. After a long conversation of warning Harry that Angel will either not come, or come and judge him for every single thing he does, Harry persuaded me to bring him.
Surprisingly, Angel was willing to come. He said that it was about time I went out partying with him, especially for new years. Harry also mentioned he might invite one of his friends in case me and him want to 'slip away', yet he didn't say who. Of course, Angels first reaction was 'oh my god, is he gay?' to which I replied with 'I don't know, but please don't try and get with Harry's friend.' We are staying over for the evening, so we can both drink and not have to travel home, as well as taking the train just because it's more practical.
It finally feels like everything is turning around for the better.
Harry's back until March, Angel and I aren't arguing anymore, and he's accepting Harry again.
"Now c'mon." Angel sat me up. "We need to pack and get ready." We stood up, making our way to the bedroom.
For what felt like days, I tried on outfit after outfit, desperately trying to meet Angels approval as I practically emptied my wardrobe onto the floor. Dresses, trousers, skirts, jeans, jumpsuits, shorts - everything was being thrown together in attempt to find me something to wear, every time Angel shaking his head and demanding I tried on the next thing.
"Where's that dress you wore to my birthday last year?" Angel asks, perched on the end of my bed as I knelt before him on the floor, rummaging through the heap of fabric.
"I can't wear that, Angel. It's too expensive and showy - I only bought it because you pulled the 'it's my birthday' card." I laugh at his suggestion, turning to spot the dust preventing bag the dress was situated in, tucked at the very back of the cupboard.
Angel rose, making his way round the room and retrieving it. He undid the zipper cautiously, pulling out the coat hanger and holding the dress before him.
It was a beautiful dress: a black cotton-velvet mini dress with voluminous puffed sleeves, fitted with padded shoulders that stand out against the synched waist. It's detailed with buttons along the front, and when I wore it I felt so weirdly empowered.
Handing it to me, I feel the soft fabric between my fingers, becoming ever more tempted to wear the dress. Rising to a stand, I hold it before my body in my reflection at the mirror, smiling to myself at the memories this dress held. Angel's birthday had been such an amazing night, everything was perfect, and it was the first time in years I'd felt utterly happy despite still being with Dan.
I quickly tossed off my trousers, slipping into the most expensive clothing I'd ever bought and buttoning it up - tracing my fingers down the front as I stared at myself. Angel approached behind, lightly grasping the clip in my hair and pulling it away, letting my curls bob down naturally just under my shoulders. With my naturally larger body, the dress fit tighter than designed to, accentuating my curves and making me look less like a door and more like a human.
"Okay, so... maybe I'll wear it." I bit my lip to hide back my smile at how much I actually loved this dress. How I forgot I even owned this £850 masterpiece is beyond me.
Angel and I did our makeup together in the mirror: me going for a slightly more dark look with contour and a brown eyeshadow, sparing blush and wearing a nude lip. Angel did a stunning natural look, with a champagne shimmer over his eyes and a pink gloss on his lips.
As he did the finishing touches to his long hair, which he had straightened and pinned back behind his ears, I debated which jewellery to wear. A simple, silver necklace rested at my neck, as minimal hooped earrings hung from my ear. I went to spray a perfume, not even hesitating to pick up the bottle of Tom Ford that Harry had bought me and gusting it into the air, walking graciously through the cloud of Harry before turning to present my final look to Angel.
Swivelling round in my makeup desk chair, he looked me up and down, examining me deeply.
"Wow I contemplated my sexuality then." Angel exhaled, rising to meet me in the middle of the room. "Bitch you are so hot." He snapped his fingers as he spoke, making me chuckle to myself. "But, you need tights, shoes and a coat or else you will freeze." He bosses as if he were my mum, giving me a supportive push towards my chest of drawers.
Slipping into a pair of tights and some black stiletto heels, I met Angel in the lounge with my suitcase and a black puffer coat. It was only about 2pm, so it felt a little weird being this dressed up so early, however once we arrived in London it will be dark and we can finally start celebrating.
The journey to the train station was a short taxi ride consisting mainly of me messaging Harry, and Angel flooding me with questions about him. "Does he like me?" "How big is his house?" "Can I take pictures of it to prove I've stayed in Harry Styles' house?" "What does Harry sleep in?" "Does he walk around in boxers in the morning?" "Can I take a picture of that?" And at that moment, I swatted him on the leg, staring at him with a slight squint in confusion if he was actually being serious.
"Do you really think Harry would let you take a photo of him in his boxers in the morning?" I ask, batting my eyes down to type a quick message out to Harry as Angel replied.
To: Harry
Angel wants to see u in ur boxers
"So, he does wear boxers round the house in the morning?" Angel prods, smirking to himself which made me weirdly uncomfortable.
"Angel, he obviously does when I'm there, I'm his girlfriend. He won't when you are." I fel the need to say.
From: Harry
lol let him
"You're so jealous." I hear Angel mumble, looking out the window blissfully.
To: Harry
Harold...
From: Harry
Primrose...
From: Harry
better he sees me in my boxers than he sees us having sex
I choke out at his comment, trying to hide my shocked gasp with a cough as Angel looks over in suspicion.
To: Harry
he's already seen me naked, so... and he's gay, so I think he would deffo only be looking at u
From: Harry
Don't get jealous, love ;)
I slam my phone down in frustration after being called jealous twice in 5 minutes, gazing out the window as we pulled into the train station carpark. Angel retrieved our luggage as I payed the cabby. Whilst getting out the car, I noticed Angel staring at the driver, and when my eyes followed his, I noticed he was staring directly at my ass only just hidden by my short skirt.
"Excuse me?" Angel barks abruptly. "Fuck off, will you?" He snaps, slamming my door and hooking his arm around mine, hastily leading me inside and I heard the hum of the engine take off into the distance.
It comforted me to know Angel still cared for me. After everything that's happened between us I do find myself questioning whether he actually does. He kept a firm hold on me until we were seated on the train, forcing me to sit by the window so nobody could get to me. I noticed his eyes bat to my wrist a few times, his lip always forming into a flat line before he glanced away. It hurt him that I had been hurt, and I think it hurt him even more knowing I had been hurt by someone I love, because he couldn't do anything about it.
The train gently jolted to a smooth start, the world around us moving speedily out of vision as we travelled further inland. I caught Angel's eyes as he looked away from my bruises again, and he smiled weakly, exhaling a breath and placing his hand on my leg, shaking it slightly as if to sympathise with me. Returning the smile, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, expecting it to be another message from Harry.
From: Sarah
Hey, are you okay?
Furrowing my brows, I reply, confused as to why she suddenly felt the need to message me after so long.
To: Sarah
Of course, why wouldn't I be? :)
From: Sarah
Harry told us what happened...
I pause in minor shock at her message, lowering my phone and thinking to myself. Harry told them? I did not expect that from him. I mean... they are his best friends. I wonder if he told anyone else? Louis, maybe. They have a strong history, but Harry said they don't talk as frequently as they used to. I didn't expect Harry to tell anyone. I don't mind, but I also don't want people to think he abuses me. Oh god- what if we get papped? I haven't been photographed with Harry this entire time, though, which is slightly weird.
Why haven't I been seen with him? Not that I want to be, but, we aren't exactly secretive with our appearances in public. We walk around London together all the time.
Lost in my own little world of questions, I disconnected from reality for what must of been a while. A buzz shook my body back to life, vibrating from the phone still resting in my hands. I blinked a few times to focus on the bright surrounding I'd somehow been blind to, and quickly looked over to Angel. He was scrolling through Instagram casually, so I can't of been silent for too long. That's good.
From: Sarah
Primrose?
Realising I'd ignored her message for a whole 11 minutes, my fingers fumbled to type a reply.
To: Sarah
Sorry, bad service on the train-
I lie.
-I didn't think he would tell people. How much did he say?
From: Sarah
That Dan called, and he snapped at you then stormed off. You tried to help and he hurt you. And that he said he loves you for the first time.
To: Sarah
Did he mean it?
I've had the smallest fraction of doubt in my mind as to whether Harry does actually love me. He was in such a state that it could've slipped out accidentally when he didn't mean it, or he might of just wanted me to of forgiven him. I would of either way. I can't imagine him lying to me though, especially about love, and especially not now - not with how close we have become.
From: Sarah
I think that's a discussion you and Harry need to have. Don't panic, though. It will be a good discussion, I promise. I just don't think it's my place to say x
"Primrose! Look how fit he is." Angel shoves his phone in my face, a toned, tanned male model filling my vision. "I could definitely pull him if I met him in person." He crosses his legs confidently, whipping his hair over his shoulder.
"Don't you have a boyfriend, though?" I remind, raising my eyebrows and laughing at him as his bold demeaner began to crumble.
"Ugh." He slouched down, kicking his feet up on the empty seat opposite us, crossing his arms over his body. "You never let me have any fun." He buried his face into his arms, pouting childishly.
"I wouldn't tell Harry if you got with a different man. I'd let you go and live your boss bitch life." Angel mumbles.
"I wouldn't get with a different man though, Angel." I reply simply.
"Just because you're in love." He mocks, looking the opposite direction on the train in his grump. "You won't even let me photograph your boyfriend in his boxers... who does that?"
"A lot of people."
The rest of the train ride was filled with a lot of bickering as there was nothing to look at out the window anymore - night time falling very quickly.
Pulling into the familiar London station, my stomach fizzed with excitement as I grabbed my suitcase and wheeled it behind me. Cold air nipped at the exposed skin of my face, my hands buried in my coat sleeves. Angel followed me as he didn't know where to go, both of us weaving through the busy crowd of people until we entered the carpark. I squinted in attempt to see where Harry was parked, walking slowly past each car in case it was his.
Turning a corner, I noticed a blinding set of headlights, along with a figure sat on the bonnet. Approaching, that same curly haired outline shadowed through the illuminated surrounding, making my feet race quicker and quicker. My lips pulled into a painfully large smile as Harry rose from the car, unfolding his arms and uncrossing his legs to make his way towards me.
Releasing my suitcase, I sprinted towards him, falling into the open embrace of his arms as he spun me round. His body radiated heat against mine, his warm breath cascading down my neck as he exhaled a chuckle, kissing my skin softly whilst lowering me to the ground again. As my head steadied its spinning, he cupped my face, cushioning his lips heavily against mine; the euphoria making everything fall still.
"Hi baby." He cooed, pecking the tip of my nose, still holding my face.
"Hi love." I use his vocabulary accidentally, the word just slipping out. Harry smirked, gliding his hands down my neck, over my shoulders until he held my arms lightly, bringing me to stand out in front of the headlights. Continuing down my body, his fingertips laced around mine, but only for a split second until he was snapping one of his hands away. His emeralds fell on the bruising over my wrist and he stared at it blankly, his eyes speaking a thousand words.
"Harry..." I speak quietly, not wanting this mistake to keep haunting him.
He breathes in heavily, reluctantly meeting my eyes with an uncertain smile.
"I want to see how beautiful you look." He changes the subject, extending his arm out above his head, bringing mine with it as he delicately held my hand. My body slowly spun round in motion with his arm, the car lighting up my entire outfit. As I faced him again, Harry lightly tugged me towards him, our faces mere millimetres apart. His nose tickled against mine, his bottom lip grazing mine a few times as he purposely moved his head. "Perfect." He hummed, kissing me passionately, nipping at my bottom lip slightly then soothing over it with his tongue - the pain making me greedy for more.
My hands moved to snake in his hair, forcing his lips to stay attached to mine as I fought back, taking his bottom lip in between my teeth, making him gasp. Slipping my tongue in, I felt Harry's lips quirk against mine as he groaned out loud enough for me to hear, his hands finding their way to my hips, pushing my body against the hardness in his trousers.
He's already aroused.
I gasp at the contact, Harry very slowly moving his hips against the hem of the dress to get some form of relief, my skirt slowly riding up. Harry tightened his grip on my hips, making me roll my head back in pleasure, allowing his lips to easily slide down to my neck. As soon as they made contact, I forced my eyes open, stumbling backwards from Harry and rapidly searching the carpark.
I forgot Angel was here!
"Angel?" I yell into the darkness, Harry chuckling from behind me as he moved to stand next to me, slinking his arm around my waist. I hit his chest playfully. "It's not funny!" I scold. As I continued to look into the night, Harry takes my hands in his, slowly leading it to the hem of his jeans, slipping my fingertips into his boxers.
"Harry what are you-" I look at his eyes, and he just stares at me innocently, continuing to move my hand into his boxers. "Harry!" I yell, snapping my hand away as he throws his head back in laughter.
"Why are you so horny today?" I ask, pulling my hand away again as he tries to hold it once more.
"M'not." He shrugs off. "Just excited to see my girlfriend."
Those words turn my legs to jelly as I let Harry hold my hand again, giving in to his affection as he took a step forward, kissing my forehead easily from the minor height difference. Just as his lips go to make contact with mine, three, loud knocks echo from behind us, making me jolt in shock as we both looked in the direction of the sound.
"Are you finished yet? I want to get shitfaced!" Angel yells from the front passenger seat of Harry's car, rolling his eyes before slouching back and returning to his phone.
"Did you know he got in your-"
"Not a clue."
Harry walks me round to my side of the car, opening the door as Angel graciously exited. He assisted me in, giving my thigh a small squeeze before turning to Angel. I prepared for an awkward encounter, however, was pleasantly surprised when they immediately shook hands, Angel doing his 'cool-guy-act-who-deffo-isn't-a-secret-fangirl' thing, Harry asking how he was and saying it was nice to see him again, Angel replying with a similar sentence.
Angel found his way into the back of the car with our suitcases as Harry made his way to the drivers seat. The car hummed into life as we pulled away, Harry gluing his hand to my thigh as always as we drove the short way home.
" 'Sorry about earlier, Angel.' 'Oh, that's fine guys, don't worry." Angel mimics a conversation to himself, Harry bursting out into laughter and me burying my head in shame.
"Angel, I'm sorry about earlier." I say, turning to face him in the back.
"It's fine, nothing I haven't seen before." He replies effortlessly, not even batting his eyes up to me as he scrolled through twitter.
Harry looks at me with a puzzled expression. "When have you ever seen that? Because, I've been there every time, and I don't recall you being there too." Harry asks, keeping his eyes on the road as he spoke.
"Yeah, and we don't ever do anything in front of people." I add in, watching as Angel continues to act unfazed.
"Oh don't act so innocent." He rolls his eyes, placing his phone by his side and crossing his legs, poising his hands on the top knee. "I saw you both on the security cameras."
I choke on my spit so hard that I end up actually choking, coughing harshly in embarrassment as I heard Harry crack a joke, trying to make light of the awkward situation.
"Sick one, right?" He turns to face Angel, his fist out in front of him to fistbump Angel with a melodramatic, toothy smile on his face.
Angel batted his eyes at Harry a few times, turning down his fist bump. Harry turns back to face the road with a sad expression, thankfully us already stopped in his driveway so him turning away from the road didn't matter.
At this point, I'm whacking my own back, trying to save myself from literal death as I finally can take a breath in. I dart over to look at Harry, staring harshly at him as my chest heaves between us. "What?" He questions in confusion.
"Don't save your girlfriend from choking, then?" I ask in annoyance, taking a sip of water from the bottle in the cupholder in front of me. I winced in disgust at the taste, the water clearly being extremely old and having an unsatisfyingly warm temperature.
"But... I needed to fist bump Angel?" Harry says quietly, gesturing to Angel who was already finding his way out the car, bringing our suitcases with him.
"Are you serious?" I ask bluntly, narrowing my eyes at him as he shuts down the cars engine.
Harry doesn't speak. Instead, he strongly holds his clenched fist in front of me. I bat my eyes down to it, meeting his joyful eyes in confusion. "What the hell is that?"
"Cool guy fistbump?" He asks, smiling as he shakes his fist, signalling for me to bump it.
Shaking my head, I unbuckle my seatbelt and swing the door open, stepping into the cold evening as Harry keeps his fist out.
"Oh come on, you know you want a cool guy fistbump." He chases me up the drive, blocking the front door from me so I can't get in.
"Be a cool guy and bump my fist!" Harry tries to tap my fist with his hand, and it's getting harder and harder for me to act angry at him, a smile creeping onto my face for a split second until I managed to wipe it away.
"Harry, I'm hungry. Please let me inside." I ask, and surprisingly he opens the door.
"Bump my fist." He repeats, trailing behind me as I hung my coat up, flattening out my dress that was slightly crinkled from all the travelling.
"Harry I don't want to."
"Bump it."
"No, Harry. I-"
"Give me a cool guy fist bump!"
"No."
"Come onnnn! You know you want to."
"I really don't, Harry."
"Stop being so moody and bump my fist."
"I'm not moody, Harry. I'm just-"
"Then bump. My. Fist."
"Fine!" I snap, grabbing Harry's fist lightly and pulling it towards me, clenching my other hand and hitting our knuckles together.
"There. Happy now?" I walk past him, entering the living room.
"Very." Harry sneaks up behind me and grabs my waist, pulling me down onto the sofa to straddle his lap as he slams his lips into mine, forcing all the air from my lungs as he lapses his lips over mine. His hands press heavily against my hips as he pushes me down slightly, his hardness reappearing almost instantaneously. I wined into the kiss at the friction of him against my core, making me tug his hair which was weaved in between my fingertips even tighter. Harry groaned, snapping his lips from mine and diving onto my neck, nipping at the skin and then soothing over the area with gentle kisses. I rested my head against the side his, breathing roughly as he literally dry humped me. I feel like a 14 year old.
I don't know what's gotten into Harry tonight, or why it's making me so aroused, but is it bad if I say I'm very much enjoying it?
"Harry-" I exhaled into his ear, sucking in a sharp breath as he trailed his lips up my neck to my jaw.
"I'm sorry, love." He whispered into my ear, kissing it softly. "Just can't seem to keep my hands of you tonight." His words tingle my skin, all my hairs standing on end.
"It's fine." I reply in a shaky whisper, pulling my head to face him. Just as I went to lay my lips against his, a door slammed open from behind me, music blasting into the room as I whipped round to face who I thought would be Angel.
"Oi... oi?" Louis' voice trails off into confusion as he sees me straddling Harry. I quickly dismount him, chucking him a pillow to hold over his lap to hide is crotch. "I thought I heard voices!"
"Louis!" I stand and approach him, pulling him from a hug. "It's so nice to see you again." I smile as he kisses me on the check.
"Same here, darlin'. You look lovely tonight." He compliments.
"Oh my god." Someone whispers from behind, and all three of us turn to face Angel. He was stood in the arch of the living room entrance, jaw slack and eyes wide as he stared at Louis.
"Hey, mate." Louis walks over to him, sticking his hand out. " I'm Louis"
Angel stares at him, failing to form a sentence as he became consumed with awe. I bury my head in my hands in second hand embarrassment for him, knowing how hard he would be fan-girling right now. Louis gave him a sceptical look, leaning down and forcing Angel to shake his hand.
Sitting next to Harry, I watch the interaction from over the sofa.
"Why didn't you tell me Louis was the friend you were having round?" I whisper to Harry, who was peeking under the cushion on his lap.
"I didn't think it would matter?" He replies, immaturely lifting the cushion to show me his boner.
Shaking my head in laughter, I reply. "Yeah, not to me. But Angel is a mega 1D fan. He's probably about to blow up right now because he's at a new years eve party, with Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles, in Harry Styles' house!"
Harry laughs, and I throw my hand over his mouth to shush him as we both now turn to watch the interaction.
"I'm Angel." He finally speaks, and I mentally applaud him. "It's nice to meet you." Angel puts on a cool-guy demeanour, snapping his fingers at Louis and pointing at him with his pointer fingers before walking casually to an arm chair. I'm starting to think Harry's cool guy fist bump offer got to his head because now he thinks he is actually being cool.
Louis occupies the space next to me, swinging his arm over the back of the couch and resting his hand on my shoulder. Harry death stared it, but I nudged his leg with my knee to let him know it was okay.
"Can we get drunk now please?" Louis asks specifically to me. "After we had dinner ages ago and you said you didn't drink, I've been dying to see what you're like drunk." He laughed, tossing his foot to rest on his knee.
"Louis." Harry said sternly, tossing the cushion to the side.
"Not in a creepy way. Just in a... in a fun way. It's new years eve for fuck sake, you can't not drink." He justifies.
I stand, pulling Louis up with me and walk to the kitchen. Harry followed us, Angel trailing behind, still in awe.
Pulling a bottle of vodka from the cupboard, Louis filled four shot glasses with the potent liquid, taking a swig from the spout before filling his glass. "Don't drink it yet, you idiot!" Louis yelled at Harry, who had the glass perched on his lip. Raising his glass into the air, Louis clambered onto the granite and stood up straight - his small height making it easy for him.
"A toast to new years. Lets get absolutely shitfaced!" He cheered, and we all clapped, throwing our heads back and downing the spirit. It burned my throat that was still raw from choking earlier, but I didn't mind. Louis hopped to the floor, filling his glass again and swallowing it effortlessly. He then set about preparing numerous cocktails for us all, and Harry went over to his speaker, turning up the music. I didn't really know what was playing - it was something Lou had chosen - but I liked the beat of it nonetheless.
Angel was staring at Louis as I shuffled round the kitchen to stand by him. "He's so hot." Angel blurted, chewing his lip as he stayed trained on the short, brown haired boy across the room.
"Make a move then." I suggest, feeling the vodka already go to my head as I throw my morals out the window. God I'm such a lightweight.
"Excuse me?" Angel whisper shouts, turning to face me so Louis can't hear our conversation. "Does he even like dick?"
I shrug, knowing the answer from what Harry had told me about their relationship but not wanting to out him. "What does your gay-dar say?" I ask, blinking rapidly as my eyes were already falling heavy.
"I don't know. It's under maintenance." Angel whips his hair behind his shoulder. As he does, Louis looks up and smiles at him. Like a deer in headlights, Angel freezes, going to smile but instead just clenching his jaw and showing Lou all his teeth. I wheezed to myself, turning away from them both as I laughed, fanning my eyes so my makeup didn't run. Deciding to let Angel figure this out without me, I move to stand next to Harry.
"You smell so good, baby." Harry immediately sensed my presence, turning to face me and holding my waist, stroking his fingertips up and down my spine.
"I should hope so, you bought it for me." I tease, pecking his lips.
Harry's tongue dampens his bottom lip, folding it under his teeth and slowly releasing it. Watching it spring back into position, I leaned forward and kissed them again, for slightly longer this time.
"You've got quite an attitude today." Harry assesses me, talking in a low tone as he looks me up and down. "Any reason?"
"Travelling makes me grumpy." I shrug, going to walk away but Harry not letting me, his grip snapping me back to press against his body.
"Are you sure it's because of travelling?" Harry whispers in a sultry tone, and I knew exactly what he wanted me to reply, wanting me to go along with this game he was playing. But... I like to have my fun too.
"Positive." I smile plainly, quickly slipping away and moving next to Louis, being extra touchy with him as I rest my hand on his arm. Peeking over my shoulder, Harry was clenching his jaw at me in frustration, tapping his foot rapidly on the kitchen floor as batted my eyelashes innocently at him.
"Take another shot with me." Louis insisted, pushing a full glass across the slick counter top. "You too, Angel." He shoves one his direction, it stopping directly in front of him. We all raise our glasses in a silent cheers before backing the alcohol, my stomach turning as soon as it hit my tongue. But I didn't care. For once, I actually want to get drunk tonight.
After finishing our Pina Coladas made by Louis, he went and turned the music up even more, changing to some older songs that we could all dance to. Harry stayed in a huff on a stool, watching as I danced with Angel. I had my arms slung around his neck whilst he had his round my waist, us moving in unison to the beat of Single Ladies by Beyoncé. Angel was screaming the lyrics like his life depended on it, whilst Louis was sat on the kitchen island, too busy drinking to come dance with us.
You'd think I would be embarrassed to be dancing like this in front of H and Lou, but I'm really not. Thanks to my new best friend Louis, I've had a constant supply of drinks and I am absolutely shitfaced. As the chorus approached, I spun round in Angel's hold, flipping my hair over my head to stare at Harry through my blurry, drunk vision. I smirked as I pushed my ass against Angels crotch, bouncing my legs as I did the signature dance. Following my vibe, he moved his hands to my hips and swayed his body against mine.
Perks of having a gay best friend: you can dance with them without them taking it too far.
Louis jumped to his feet and came to dance with us, standing next to me and doing the moves with me. He wobbled through his drunk haze, and I would've been too if Angel wasn't helping keep me still. I laughed with him as we danced, standing up straight and turning to face Angel again. He was gone. Bloodshot eyes, slurred speech, sleepy aroma, but despite this he was going all out. Hooking his hand on the back of my leg, he hooked it round his waist, securing it there as he rested his forehead on mine, screaming the lyrics to me through the extremely loud speaker we were on.
Beyoncé soon faded into Buttons by The Pussycat Dolls. And as soon as the first line hit my ears, the stripper inside of me awoke and I decided to take centre stage. Louis and Angel hyped me up, spraying fake money at me as I practically rolled onto the dining table, stumbling to a stand so I could dance to my audience. I kicked of my heels, Lou catching one and Angel catching the other. As the first chorus played, I ran my hands down my body, falling into a slut drop and staying there for a few moments, singing with the boys.
Well... most the boys. Harry was still sulking. I don't know if I'm just thinking this because I'm drunk, but fuck him. It's new years eve and I'm having fun. We are having fun. I glanced over at him, watching me with a flat expression. Cockily, I blew him a kiss, rising to a stand again.
"I wanna dance with you!" Louis yelled over the singing. Bending down, he lifted me from the table and stumbled backwards as I failed to stand properly. Finding my balance, he held my waist as we danced, both too busy singing and moving together to notice Harry now directly next to us, staring bullets at Louis.
"I love being drunk!" I yell into Louis' ear, our alcohol breaths mixing between us as we tried to have a conversation.
"I told you it was- was fun!" He mumbles through his intoxicated mind.
I throw my head back laughing, snorting at the comment which my drunk self found hilarious. When my head snapped back up, I lay eyes on Harry.
"You're drunk." He spoke flatly, literally shoving Lou out the way so he could stand in front of me.
"Hey! I was having fun." I brute, frowning at him.
"I'm cutting you off." He said, his lips forming a line as I pushed his hold from me. He seemed angry for some reason, which made me angry at him. Shuffling past him, I downed the third cocktail Louis had made me, shoving my middle finger up to H before I grabbed Angel's full glass and downed that too.
The song once again changed to another upbeat classic, this time it being Mr Brightside. I saw Angel and Louis dancing together, singing and jumping around without a care in the world. I wanted that. I wanted that with Harry. Swallowing down all my sudden hatred towards him, I place my hands on his shoulders. He exhales a laugh and shakes his head, an action only just visible through my blurred vision.
"...He takes off her dress now..." Harry sings the specific lyric, his fingertips dancing up my sides and curving round to grip the buttons on the front of my dress. His fingers easily pop one open, then another, and then a third so that my black, lace bra and top of my cleavage was visible. He smirks proudly to himself, bending down too kiss the centre of my chest, his lips slowly finding their way to my revealed cleavage. I breathe in sharply at the contact, my drunk self not caring if the others saw.
My drunk mindset is extremely different to my sober one. She's a lot more... blunt. She doesn't care about anything unless she is having fun. Is she having fun right now? Yes, yes she is.
Harry backed us to the table, lifting me to perch on the end of it and I frantically squeeze my legs around his waist mainly for stability. "...Jealousy, turning saints into the sea..." He mumbles the lyrics into my skin, his fingers undoing another button.
"Harry-" I hum out in pleasure, not caring how loud it was. Harry rapidly stands straight, snapping his mouth to mine for a quick kiss.
"Not too loud, love." He hums, pecking my lips again before trailing down my neck, returning to my cleavage.
Suddenly, I no longer was in the mood for this. The hatred for him was returning again and I didn't know why but I was too weak to fight it. "Harry, I don't want to do this here." I mumble out.
"Okay." He says simply, respecting my decision totally and buttoning up my dress. Despite his kind gesture, for some reason, all I can do is look at him in disgust. He helped me to my feet, holding my waist until I was steady, then releasing me.
I scowled at him before shoving past him, going over to Angel and Louis and standing with them.
What a prick. He thinks I can't dress myself. He thinks I can't stand myself. Well, I will have him know I am a big girl... I can do all of those things on my own. I don't need a man to do them for me. I don't need Harry to do things for me. I don't need him to dress me, or help me stand up... or talk to Dan.
Uh-oh. My drunk mind remembered what happened last week with my wrist, Dan, and how he said he loved me. The minimal thought I had earlier about Harry possibly not loving me was now magnified to my drunk mind. My unsteady thought train leaping to conclusions without caring as to how unreasonable they sounded.
He doesn't love me. He only said it so I would forgive him, and then I could come to his house and have sex with him. He's been all over me all day. I just want to have fun with my best friends. Louis and Angel are so cool, I love them. I wish we could all get married and coul- stay on track! We hate Harry! He's been using you! Oh my god... Angel was right.
I storm out the room, my anger magnified by a million due to how intoxicated I was as I fell up the stairs, practically crawling up in attempt to get to Harry's room. I heard him yell from behind me in a concerned voice, curious as to why I suddenly disappeared. He crouched down next to me as I made it to the top of the stairs.
"Love, what's wrong?" He spoke clearly and easily. It's because he's sober... so now he's being cocky! What a prick.
"You don't love me." I groan out, using the banister to pull myself to a stand.
"What? How could you even say that?" Harry sounded genuinely hurt. Good. I clambered into the bedroom, bursting in with full force and flopping head first onto the bed.
"You don't love me, and now you're gonna hit me again." I mumble cries into the bed, my eyes streaming with tears as I lost utter control of my emotions. Harry lightly held my shoulders, lying next to me as he tried to make me sit up.
"You're drunk, Primrose, That's all." He tries to comfort me, my body limply facing him. Blackness smudged round my eyes, leaving two black stains on his plain white duvet.
"No I'm not. Yo- you are!" I yell through my sobs, wiping my tears away with the back of my hands.
"I'm not going to hit you, Primrose." Harry spoke calmly, clearly hurting on the inside from the insinuation of my comment, but knowing I didn't mean anything I was saying. I pushed myself to sit up, standing and moving to be situated in the middle of the room.
"Hit me."
"Primrose-"
"Hit me!" I shout, putting my hands out to either of my sides, opening myself up for his aggression.
Harry rises, moving to meet me in the middle of the room. "Primrose I am not going to hit you." He said sternly, becoming frustrated with my demands.
"If you love me you will hit me."
"That doesn't make sense, Primrose." Harry laughs at me, shaking his head slightly.
I breathe in heavily, swinging my arm round so my palm heavily collided with Harry's cheek. He didn't even flinch at the contact, which hurt my drunk self's confidence, but I didn't care. I threw hit after hit at him, becoming too fatigued to reach his face and eventually trailing down his body. Harry took each hit, staying stood straight as I grew weaker and weaker, my legs slowly giving in as I eventually fell to the floor.
Tears swarmed my skin as I sobbed - about what was unknown - but it was aggressive and painful. My chest heaved to an extent I'd never experienced before and my mouth went bone dry, the high of the alcohol crashing into the depressive low nobody ever talks about. And... as I've never been this drunk before, I have no idea how to handle it.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Harry crouched in front of me.
"I- I'm sorry." I sob out, looking at him through my tears.
"You're not sorry... you're drunk." Harry took my hands in his, rubbing his thumb over my fingers. "I'm gonna kill Louis." He mutters to himself.
"Please don't, I like Louis." I blurt out, causing Harry to laugh slightly. I'm glad he got humour from this situation, especially after how I just treated him.
"C'mon." Harry raises me up to my feet, holding my waist securely as he lead me to the bathroom. Lifting me to sit on the counter top, he tied my frizzed curls back into a low ponytail, and used a damp cloth to remove the majority of my makeup.
"I want to go to bed." I say to myself, but Harry nods, understanding where I was coming from. "Harry, I'm sorry."
"I know you are, baby." He kisses my trembling lips softly, lifting me into his hold and moving me to the toilet, crouching us both onto the floor, me in his lap with my back to his chest. "You're just drunk. You don't mean any of this."
"I know you love me." I rest my head in the crook of his neck, feeling guilty for accusing him of lying. "Thankyou."
"For what?"
"For loving me. Nobody ever has before." I kiss his cheek. "Why the fuck are we sat in front of a toilet?"
Harry chuckles. "You need to be sick." Harry tells me quietly, shuffling us closer to the toilet. "It will get the alcohol out of your system so you can sober up quicker."
"This is why I don't drink." I wine, moving my head so it was over the toilet. Harry's arms were resting supportively on my shoulders, stroking soothing lines against my dress. "Harry, I can't make myself throw up."
"I know, love." He kisses the back of my head. "I'm going to do it for you."
I'm sorry?
My head shoots round to look at him, confusion drowning me as he just stares back plainly. His hands hold my cheeks, positioning my head over the toilet. He then held my jaw and opened my mouth as wide as it would go. Pausing, he kissed the back of my head again.
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course."
Harry moved slowly, not wanting to overwhelm me as his middle and pointer finger inched further into my mouth. "When you love someone... you love every part of them." He spoke soothingly from behind me, another way of keeping my drunken self from panicking at something I'd never had to do before.
"Just because I'd never met drunk Primrose before, doesn't mean I don't love her," His hand holds my jaw tighter, keeping it open so I didn't reflex and bite his fingers off. "But... even when you're drunk-" I gagged on his fingers, his hand darting out my mouth to let the sick out, however none came up. His hand returned to its position, going in even further. "-you are still the most beautiful girl to me. Even when you hit me." I laugh, making me gag again in his fingers, but this time he leaves them in.
I felt his lips press one more kiss against the back of my head, and at the same time, he moved his fingers in the final way, causing all the alcohol I'd consumed today to rocket from my stomach. Harry released my jaw, stroking my back gently to support me as I puked, my eyes streaming from the overwhelming feeling and my body suddenly going ice cold.
"You ok?" He checked as I gasped for breath, taking the same damp flannel and wiping my sick away from around my mouth.
I nod, suddenly falling sleepy. My head goes to his shoulder, my eyes heavily shutting with no intention of opening any time soon. Harry quietly cradled me in his arms, carrying me to the bed and laying me on it. He tried to take my dress off but I unintentionally squirmed each time he did, just wanting to sleep off this drunkenness. Everything slowly began to blur together as the bed dipped down, Harry crawling in next to me and laying to my side.
The last definite thing I remember is a faint cheering sounding from downstairs, the bass of the music vibrating the entire house as a muffled 'Happy New Year!' was yelled. Harry leant over me, feathering a kiss into my lips. "Happy new year, baby." He whispered, those words blissfully sending me into a groggy sleep.
***
I woke up to an unsatisfying weight aching my head and an awful taste dusted over my mouth. Peeling my tongue from the roof of my mouth felt like sandpaper as I longed for a form of hydration. My eyelashes were slightly glued together from the mascara I fell asleep in. I had no idea what time it was, how long I'd been asleep, or how I even got to bed.
But what I did know, was that I was wrapped in the warm embrace of Harry, my boyfriend, the light of my life, who - from what I can remember - cared for me even through the nettles I coated myself with, and the poison I spat at him.
Nuzzling my head further into my arm, I heard him hum faintly, his lips lazily falling onto my ear to kiss it lightly.
"You ok?" He whispered, and I nodded, the movement making my head shoot with pains. Wincing at the pain, I watched Harry effortlessly open his stunning emeralds, looking down on me peacefully.
"My mouth feels weird." I mumble out, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room.
Harry chuckles through his sleepy voice, kissing my forehead as he sat up slightly. "It's the alcohol and the sick - you're dehydrated, love."
I was sick?
"How long have I been asleep?" I question, trying to piece the cracked memories of my drunkenness back together.
"About 2 hours. It's 2 am." Harry replies.
"Did you go to sleep?" I ask further.
Harry shakes his head. "No. I was making sure you were okay."
I smile weakly, my lips cracking at how dry they were which genuinely hurt. "I'm going to get you some water." Harry rolled lazily out of bed, and I peeked through the mountain of duvet as he left the room silently in just a crewneck and some boxers. A very attractive look on him,
Angel's going to have a frenzy.
I lay in the quietness, staring up at the ceiling and just thinking. Nothing specific came to my mind, it was just thoughts. Images. Ideas. Random sentences and words. I was weirdly relaxed considering two hours ago I was drunk out of my mind. Am I still drunk now? Is that why I'm so calm?
Just as my mind found a focus point, a muffled eruption of cheers and claps echoed through the floor, telling me Angel and Louis were still very much awake. That was the only noise I heard for a while until Harry returned, perching next to me on my side of the bed and assisting me to sit up. God this dress was uncomfortable! Passing me the water, I downed practically the entire glass, sighing in satisfaction before falling back to the pillow again.
"This reminds me of the night we met." I speak now with a clearer mindset, rolling to face Harry. He did the same: shuffling down the bed and facing me. "I was drunk, you took me to bed and respectfully didn't undress me. Accept this time I didn't leave without a goodbye." I laugh, Harry chuckling too.
"I didn't take you to bed." He says. "You came yourself."
"Really?" I ask in confusion.
"You were angry at me - thought I didn't love you. Then cried..." Harry gestures to the stains on the duvet and I gasp to myself at the marks I'd left on the extremely expensive bed spread. "... and then you yelled, told me to hit you, then hit me-"
"I hit you?" I sit up rapidly in disbelief, wincing at the rush in my head but not slouching back down.
"-about 9 times." Harry says plainly, seeming unfazed. "You then apologised, and I took you to the bathroom and made you throw up. Then, you got sleepy and refused to let me take your dress off. Now we are here." He explains as if it was no big deal, however I was spiralling with guilt and regret, embarrassed at how stupid I was to drink in the first place.
"Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it. Did I hurt you?" I lift his crewneck, scanning his torso for bruises before holding his face in my hand and examining it for any signs of damage.
"It felt like you were patting me, in honesty. It didn't hurt at all." Harry laughed, taking my hand from his face and kissing it lightly before resting it between us. "And... you were drunk. Of course you didn't mean any of it."
"No." I say bluntly. "If you are going to forgive me, forgive me for a different reason, or give me a reason to be mad at you so we can call a truce. Don't forgive me for being drunk. If we will work by that logic, then I should've forgiven Dan-"
"I'm not Dan." Harry feels the need to clarify.
"I know, Harry. Trust me, I know." I assure. "But you didn't deserve that. I'm in your house, and it's your party, and-"
"Our house." Harry interrupts again, a lot calmer this time.
I nod.
"I told you from the moment we pulled into this driveway, this is your home too. You are allowed to let loose." Harry explains, and I get where he is coming from, but it isn't changing my opinion at all.
"I'm not allowed to hit you, though. Or accuse you of not loving you, or stain your bedsheets." I hide my face behind my hands in shame, wanting to hide from the world in humiliation.
"Primrose..." Harry nudges my arm, making me peep at him through a gap in my fingers. "I can forgive you for what I want. I forgive you for this, just like you forgave me for hurting you. A mistake made by the both of us is one we call a truce on." He uses my idea against me, forcing me to give in and let it go.
My body slowly moves to lean on his, my head resting on his shoulder. I continue to try and piece the evening together: I've gotten as far as practically doing a strip tease for Louis and Angel. Then... then it is kind of fuzzy. Harry is in it now, so I assume he cheered up. Mr Brightside is playing, and I'm kissing Harry. Or... Harry's kissing me? My neck? My arm? My cleavage? I definitely remember how persistent he was being all evening. Why did I get so mad? And...
"Why were you so persistent earlier?" I ask into the silence, being greeted with more quietness as Harry didn't response.
He sighs, sounding nervous as he began to speak. "You know I love you, right?" He asks, making a small burst of fear tingle my skin.
"Yes, Harry. Always." I reply quickly, apprehensive to hear what he's about to say.
"What I'm about to say is really embarrassing, for me - for me to of done. And it also is really stupid, and I'm ashamed of myself." Harry doesn't make eye contact with me as I look at him, his eyes glued on his hands as he toys with his rings.
"Harry, I'm not going to judge you." I try to comfort, stroking his arm. He breathes in a shaky breath, nodding to say he knows that I won't.
"When I told you I loved you, it slipped out."
Did he not mean to say it at all?
"It was an accident."
Uh oh...
"And I've hated myself for saying it ever since."
Heartbreak city, ticket for one please.
"Not because I don't mean it, because I do."
Hold that ticket...
"I just hated the moment I said it in."
Yes, I would like a refund please?
"But, saying it felt so liberating because I'd felt it for so long and it was finally time to tell you."
He's been in love with me for a while? We've been in love with each other this whole time..
"It upset me when you didn't say it back, and, I got selfish and thought I would make you say it. So... what better way to make someone say 'I love you' than by making love to them."
I-
"In my narcissistic mindset, I believed you loved me too. So to me, it was just a case of you needing to say it."
"So, you thought you'd fuck me so well that I would say it?" I finish his thought, and he nods, still not looking at me.
I can't help but laugh. I tried to hide it at first - I really did. I laughed with my mouth shut, swinging my hand to shield it as Harry darted to look at me in confusion. But then... the image of him railing me and me saying 'I love you, Harry' tipped me over the edge and I couldn't contain it.
"I'm sorry." I wheeze. "Harry, I'm so sorry to laugh." I desperately try to compose myself, but as soon as I see a smile crack on Harry's face I begin all over again, both of us breathless as we laughed at one of the weirdest confessions I'd ever heard in my life.
"That's why the guys cheered when I went down. They'd seen me all over you and assumed we went upstairs to have sex." Harry adds, and my stomach cramps from the lack of oxygen it was receiving.
"I wouldn't ever have sex with you that drunk, though - I want you to know that." Harry clarifies in seriousness, and I nod, wiping away a tear and putting on a straight face. "Earlier, you asked me to stop, and I did immediately. But, I feel bad that I even made such an advance on you for you to ask me to stop in the first place. I made you uncomfortable and I am so sorry for that."
"Harry, no offence but I hardly remember it, let alone asking you to stop. Please stop apologising, I'm fine. You're fine. We are both fine. Well... I do feel like shit, but apart from my hangover I am fine." I put my thumbs up, smiling falsely.
"I don't know if you love me, and it's okay if you don't. I want you to love me because it came naturally, and if it never comes then that's okay - we just weren't meant to be. However, if it does come or already has, please don't tell me how I told you." He takes my hands in his. "I intend to be with you until death do us part, so this will be the last time you say your first 'I love you'... make it special. Make it count. Don't waste such a feeling on an argument, or any memory with negative connotations." Harry speaks softly but seriously, and I nod at every word he says.
"Or at really good sex." I chime in, making Harry chuckle to himself. "I won't waste it, Harry, I promise." I lean forward and kiss his lips, not being too long or too adventurous with the contact as my entire body ached and my breath smelt like acid.
Between us, a gurgle of hunger yelled from my stomach, needing to be filled with nutrients after being forced to hurl them all up. Harry rose from the bed quickly, walking to my side and helping me to my feet. I caught site of myself in the full length mirror and gasped aloud at the state I was in: makeup smudged everywhere, my expensive dress stained with sick and creased beyond explanation, my tights laddered and ruined, my hair rogue from the loose ponytail it was in. I looked awful.
Harry guided me towards his chest of drawers and found me a hoodie and joggers to wear, and I very much appreciated the comfortable clothes after being so restricted in this dress for so many hours. He unbuttoned the dress, slipping it from my shoulders and down my body so I was now just in a lace bra and tights. He weaved my hands into the jumper sleeves before poking my head through the holes, letting the rest of the fabric hang naturally as it fell on my body.
Bending down so I could hold his shoulders, Harry carefully pulled my tights down, lifting one foot at a time to hook the thin fabric over my feet, before stepping me into the baggy joggers. I tied them at the waist like always as he found me some socks, also putting them on for me. I went back to the mirror and admired my full Harry outfit, retying my hair into a neater bun and taking some of his deodorant and cologne to spray on me as I was too lazy to go to my bag, but didn't want to smell like sick.
Lacing our fingers together, we headed downstairs. My eyes squinted as I adjusted to the lighting change, the further we got down the stairs the sound of humoured conversation and an American TV show became clearer. As we turned to enter the lounge, I saw Angel and Louis on the sofa, feet on the coffee table, watching Friends. An odour of alcohol poisoned my nose, making me gag out loud on reflex and cover my nose with my sleeve, the mere smell of it making me feel queasy. Angel and Louis turned around at the unknown presence behind them, and I waved, Harry rushing to move all the empty cups from the room so I could sit down.
"Here she is!" Louis clapped, Angel laughing as I silently went to sit on the arm chair alone. Passing them, Louis grabbed my hand and tugged me to sit between them, lifting my legs to put over his and swinging his arms around my shoulders again. "Did you party too hard?"
I nod, looking up at the TV. All I could think about was what Harry said - for me to not waste telling him I love him. That entire discussion melts that minor doubt I had as to whether he genuinely loves me. Of course he does - that was ridiculous of me to even question.
"Sorry, darlin'. I shouldn't of given you so many bevs." He rubs my shoulder, and I smile at his apology.
"I had fun, Lou. Don't be sorry." I say from behind my sleeve, at the same time Harry came crashing into the room, spraying febreze on every inch of the room until we were all drowning in it. Louis and Angel coughed as I took pleasure from the sweet smell, enjoying the cleansing of my nostrils so I could no longer smell vodka.
"I had fun too." He smiles, his words still the slightest bit slurred, telling me he was still drunk but was sobering up.
Angel was falling asleep to the other side of me, still absolutely hammered as he had a conversation to himself, his eyes occasionally fluttering open.
"Primroseeeeeee!" He whisper shouted, signalling for me to lean closer with his hand. I do, resting my chin on his shoulder. "I told you I would get to see Harry in his boxers." He smiles weakly, bringing his hands in front of him and pumping his fists lazily in the air - a final, triumphant dance before he fell dead asleep a few seconds later.
Harry entered again, passing me a cup of herbal tea and a slice of buttered toast. I wasn't hungry at all despite what my stomach was saying, the thought of food making my stomach churn. However, I forced it down because I knew it would make Harry happy. He watched proudly as I ate it all, sipping on my tea in between mouthfuls until I finished.
"Primrose?" Louis asks, and I look over. "Is Angel single?"
"I mean... well..." I stammer for an answer, not sure where he stood with Phoenix, that Instagram model and Louis. "No, he isn't." I reply, and Louis nods in understanding, not saying anything else.
"Fuck you." Angel groans, surprising all of us as we turn to look at him, unsure if he's talking in his sleep or is still awake. "Angel is single and ready-to-mingle." He limply brings his arm up to his side and snaps his fingers on the final three words, his eyes staying closed which made the interaction humorous.
"I'll give you his number." I whisper to Louis.
"Oh, it's not for me." Louis says in a confused tone. "I have a gay friend, I think him and Angel would get along well." Louis laughs at my assumption, and I look to Harry.
"Not his type." He mouths to me whilst pointing at Angel, and I nod.
"Fuck you too, Harry!" Angel sits up, flopping forward and folding his stomach over his legs. His eyes opened the slightest bit so he was heavily squinting as he boldly pointed at Harry across the room. "Angel is everyone's type." He whips his hair over his shoulder in proudness, thinking he did himself justice, yet we were all holding back laughter.
"And fuck you, Louis. You kissed me at midnight and I'm not your type?"
My eyes go wide as I shoot my head to Louis who is now staring up at the TV, laughing along as if he had been watching it the entire time, clearly not wanting to discuss what Angel just said.
"Hahahahaha." He spoke his laugh. "I love this show so much that I don't want anybody to talk to me!"
***
A/N:
I'm fully staying up all night to watch the GRAMMYS. I'm gonna skive school tomorrow because Harry Styles is better than an education.
Who do you all think Primrose looks like?