You Never Know (Harry Styles)

Ch 15: Shattered

Is this because of the picture?
Harry starts to stumble so I quickly jump outside into the storm and catch him before he falls onto the pavement.
"Harry, are you okay?" I place my hand on his cheek, turning his head towards me as we are standing in the pouring rain. His eyes are so drowsy, he can't even focus on me.
"I brought you something," Harry drunkenly mumbles, holding the wilted rose in front of me. His breath smells like pure alcohol.
"Thank you, Harry. That is so sweet of you." I take the rose as I help him walk into the house.
Right as we step in, his body falls out of my grip and he collapses onto the wooden floor, shattering the whiskey bottle into tiny fragments of glass. One of the pieces must have cut him, because there is a streak of crimson blood running down his arm.
"Harry!" I bend down and shake him. He doesn't respond. "Harry! Answer me!"
Still nothing. I start to panic.
"Heather! Heather, help!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I take off my soaking wet shirt, so I am wearing only the sparkly white bra that I had on underneath. I press the shirt against his wound to stop the bleeding. This is all my fault.
Heather comes running up the stairs. She turns the corner and looks at Harry in shock.
"What the hell?!" She shouts as she runs towards us, jumping over shards of glass. She sits down next to him and checks his pulse.
"He's fine," she says, putting her hand in front of his mouth. "He's still breathing, too."
"Heather, how do we wake him up? This is all my fault."
"Nicole, he is going to be fine, trust me. This used to happen all the time with the clique," she assures me.
Heather used to be in a clique her Junior year of highschool. Every weekend they would have these huge ragers where they would all get extremely drunk and almost every time someone would pass out, but they never once got caught for underage drinking. Heather was always the one to make sure noone died from alcohol poisoning, even though two of them had to go to the hospital to get their stomach's pumped for it. Authorities still haven't found out the entire background story of the parties or who held them. She stopped being friends with them after a while because she met me and I guess I distracted her from them and made a better influence on her. I am so glad she is here to take care of Harry.
"Let's stop the bleeding and then get him to my room and sit him up on the bed," Heather says. "If he lays like this and vomits, he could choke to death."
Heather gets an elastic bandage, which will stop the bleeding by applying pressure to the wound. She wraps it around his forearm and tapes it in place.
"Okay, how are we going to carry him up?" I ask.
"You grab his under arms and I'll carry his feet," she orders.
I go behind him and slip my arms underneath his. His head droops down as I lift his upper body and as Heather pulls his legs up. He is fully in the air and we carry him all the way up the stairs and into her room. He is dripping water the entire way up the stairs, and his icy wet hair is rubbing against my bare stomach. We lay him on the bed and sit him up with some of Heather's cloud-like pillows. I have a flashback to when Harry slept over and I told him to lay with me on the pillows. I sit down next to the passed out, soaking wet Harry, remembering how sweet and innocent he was, and now he is a complete wreck.
"Should we, uh, change him?" I ask Heather as she is getting the mattress out from underneath her bed.
"I mean, I was thinking that as well, but don't you think when he wakes up he will feel a bit violated?" she replies.
"I'll just take off his shirt, he might get really cold with it being so wet," I say.
I move closer to him and pinch the bottom of his cold, black t-shirt, slowly lifting it up so I won't ruin the bandage on his arm. His butterfly tattoo appears and I stare blankly at how breathtaking it looks in person. I get his shirt off and admire all of his many tattoos that are hidden underneath his clothes.
The doorbell rings. I totally forgot about the pizza.
"Finally, he's here. Only 20 minutes late, stupid pizza man," Heather grumbles as she leaves the room.
He's going to see all of the glass on the floor and think Heather is a psycho.
I stare at Harry's face, so serene and tranquil. His damp, brown hair has perfect little locks of curls surrounding his face. I am getting chilly, since I am sopping wet and half naked still, so I move even closer to Harry and scoot underneath the covers next to him. I sit up against him and rest my head on his shoulder as I start to trace the tattoos on his chest. I remember seeing online that Harry had covered up his "LOVE" tattoo with the sparrow on the right side of his chest. I wonder why he did that.
All of a sudden, Harry moves his arm so it is around me, and he places his hand on my waist. He presses me even tighter against his body. I prop my head up to look at him and he is grinning down at me.
"Harry!" I sit up and squeezed him as hard as I can, falling on top of him. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.
"Woah, what the hell is going on in here?" Heather walks into the room as I am practically naked on top of Harry. I quickly back away from him, trying to hide my body so he can't see. I face my back towards him and look at Heather, who is carrying the box of pizza and a bag full of broken glass.
"Sorry," I say. "I was just so happy that he woke up!"
I hear Harry gagging behind me. I turned around to see him leaning off of the bed, vomiting all over the floor.
"Shit, I forgot about the puking part. I'll go get a bucket for you, Harry." Heather throws the bag of glass into her garbage can and places the box of pizza on her dresser as she runs out of the room.
Harry is still vomiting and I feel terrible. I did this to him. Every single part of this is my fault. I have to at least try to make him feel better.
He stops puking but he is still laying by the side of the bed. I place my hand on his back.
"Harry, the picture wasn't real," I manage to say.
He looks up at me with a perplexed look on his face.
"Heather got a random guy to kiss me at the mall and then she posted it on my twitter. I pushed him away right after and I ripped up his phone number when he gave it to me," I explain.
He nods. I can tell he can't manage to say anything or else he will vomit again. At least he looks like he understands what I said.
Heather comes up and places a huge bucket underneath Harry's face. He gets sick again.
"Let's leave him alone for a little while, it's best for him, and you need to get some damn clothes on!" Heather exclaims.
"Is that okay, Harry?" I ask.
He nods.
Heather grabs the pizza and we walk out of the room. She shuts the door and quietly sits down outside of her room, placing the pizza on the floor.
"Why are we eating right by your door?" I whisper as I plop down next to her.
"Escape from my house once, shame on you. Escape from my house twice, I'll beat your ass," she says.
I quietly laugh, opening the box of pizza.
"I don't think he'll run away this time," I say with the biggest grin on my face. "I think he is going to stay in my life for a while."
Harry actually cares about me. A lot.