A/N: I have no idea who made the manip, I found it on google and there's no watermark. So credit to whoever the owner is x
Felicity
When I wake up in the morning, there is the unmistakable pounding of a headache taking over my mind. It's almost unbearable, but I'm sure it will lessen once I've taken a Tylenol. My head hurts so much that it's difficult to even open up my eyes. Keeping my eyes screwed shut somehow helps to soothe the pain.
I don't remember drinking that much last night, though I must have drank enough for me to wake up feeling groggy and hungover. I can't remember the last time I felt this way after a night out, if ever. Usually when I go out with Sierra I remain in some control over my body because I don't drink too much. At least not to the point that I don't remember pieces of the night. I always remember. I'm always in control.
It scares me a little, knowing that there are parts I do not remember of a night I went out with two guys. Surely nothing bad happened ... right?
As I rub my eyes open and adjust to my surroundings, I notice the warmth of a body right beside me. Right behind me, to be exact. And it's only then that I realize there's an arm wrapped around my waist, holding me close as my back is pressed up against this person's front. I can sense that it's a male. Aside from the overwhelming scent of alcohol, I can definitely smell a hint of cologne.
Even though I should be concerned with the fact that I'm currently spooning with a guy that isn't my boyfriend, somehow it feels ... I don't know ... right. That sounds horrible to admit, but it's the truth. Laying down right now with someone else's arm around me doesn't feel wrong.
I don't know what's gotten into me.
I do my best to turn around without disturbing whoever it is that's hugging me tightly, but unfortunately there's not a whole lot of space for me to do much of anything. I exhale a breath, continuing to lay down without a clue of who's behind me. It could be Harry or Niall or a complete stranger that decided to tag along back to this apartment. Wow ... that's a scary thought.
Immediately I turn my head to look over my shoulder, panic beginning to build within my body. The moment my eyes land on Harry, my entire body relaxes. My movements must have slightly disturbed his sleep because he suddenly hugs me tighter, nuzzling his head into the back of my neck. I can feel his light breathing against my skin, his hot breath sending tingles down my spine.
I'm still fully clothed in my outfit from last night, including my jacket, and as I take another glance at Harry I realize he is, too.
The worry I once had for the possibility that something bad happened last night has entirely diminished.
I know that at this point I should move. I should get up and away from Harry because it could look very bad on me if a third party were to ever walk in on this scene. But as much as I know I should, I just don't want to move. I hate to say it, but I'm really enjoying the close proximity to Harry, even if he's asleep. I feel far too comfortable in his embrace, as if I belong in his arms. It's a strange feeling to experience when I have a boyfriend that is not him.
A raspy groan echoes throughout the small room, catching my attention as I try to figure out where it's coming from. As I crane my neck to the side, I spot Niall on the floor beside the bed. He rolls onto his stomach, slowly propping himself up on his elbows as he holds his face in his hands. He stays that way for a few moments before lowering his hands and letting his eyes adjust to the lighting. The expression on his face looks as if he's trying to figure out what year it is. The moment his eyes land on me, he stares at me in confusion until he seems to recognize who I am.
"So," he groans as he tries to keep his eyes open. "How in the hell did I end up on the floor when there's a beautiful lady in my bed?"
"Because the beautiful lady is with me," Harry's raspy voice answers, letting me know he's awake. His arms tighten a little more around me until he freezes, slowly loosening his grip as his words sink in. "I mean ... well, you know ... I carried her in last night and we just fell asleep like this."
Niall pushes himself up until he's on his knees, moving until he's sitting back on his heels. "Oh, for heaven's sake. You're spooning, too! How did I end up on the dang floor with this going on?"
"You tried spooning me. I told you I'm not a little spoon."
"So, what? You just kick me off the bed?!"
"When you snore as loud as you do, yeah I'm gonna shove you right off the mattress and onto the floor."
"Ridiculous! Look at the two of y'all! Snug as a bug in a rug. No one had the decency to toss me down a pillow?"
"I was too drunk to care."
"I hate y'all," Niall stands up and sways ever so slightly. He looks at me and smiles. "I don't hate you. I just hate Styles."
"Well I don't hate you either," I laugh as he exits the room and walks towards the kitchen. I try to pry Harry's hands off me but I fail as he continues to hold on.
"Don't go just yet," he frowns and nuzzles his chin at my neck. "I must admit I really enjoy lying like this."
Me, too.
I wiggle out of his grip and off the bed. If I continued to stay there, the chances of me getting out of bed would greatly decrease. Harry stares at me with a pouty expression on his face as he rests his head on the pillow.
"We should probably get ready to leave or something," I say as I kick my heels off to the side. I can't believe they were on my feet the entire time I slept.
"You were keeping me warm. Can't you come back here? We'll leave later. We're not in a rush, right?"
I ignore him as I pick up my phone from the floor and read the time. "It's eleven-thirty. We should get moving."
"I didn't know it was that late already."
"Let's see what Niall is cooking in the kitchen. I can smell something and it's making me hungry."
Harry nods and attempts to stand up from the bed. He sways to each side, trying to catch his balance. He has his eyes closed so I don't know how he expects to make that happen. As his eyes open, he takes one step forward and nearly falls to the floor. He resembles Bambi when he tried to move across a patch of ice. His legs are wobbly and I'm sure the throbbing headache he feels as a consequence for all the alcohol he drank is not helping his balance.
I step over to him as he swings an arm around my shoulders, using me to steady himself. He mumbles an embarrassed thank you before we walk into the kitchen and sit down at the counter. Niall stands in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand, slapping at whatever is in the pan in front of him. As he notices our presence, he looks over at us and smiles.
"I had a hankerin' for a quesadilla. I can make y'all some. If not, there's cereal in the cabinet."
"A quesadilla sounds perfect," I get up and grab two glasses from one of the cabinets and fill them with water, handing one over to Harry.
He truly looks like death. His hair looks as if he was electrocuted in a windstorm. His eyes are so tired, he can barely keep them open all the way. There's an imprint on the side of his face of the folds from the blanket. In general, he's a mess. I want to laugh. I do laugh, which quickly earns me a scowl and a flip of the bird.
Niall makes each of us a quesadilla, cutting them into haphazard pieces as if he didn't know that you slice a quesadilla the same way you'd slice a pizza pie. I'm not sure if it's just the fact that I'm really hungry or if he's actually a great chef, but this has got to be one of the best quesadillas I've ever had ... and it's only a bunch of cheese sandwiched between two tortillas.
"So where are y'all heading off to next?" Niall asks with his mouth full of food.
Harry glances over at me and I just shrug. Neither of us planned this far ahead. Obviously we're still on route to California, but I kind of want to take another detour. I'm sure Harry doesn't mind.
"Do you have any suggestions?" I direct towards the blonde haired boy as I take my last bite of food.
Niall puts his hand on his chin, tapping with his index finger as if he's thinking very hard about an answer. "I don't know. There's a lot of places you can go to."
"Name a few of them," Harry pipes in. "Surely one will be a place that sounds somewhat interesting."
"St. Louis?"
"I'd like to go there," I nod.
"It's about a four and a half hour drive from here. Not too bad."
Harry shrugs and finishes his glass of water. "Okay then. Let's go there next."
"Oh! Styles, do you remember that one guy we met about three years ago?" Niall scrunches his nose and closes his eyes, tapping on the counter with his index finger. "I can't remember his name. He sent me an email the other day."
"What guy?" The look of utter confusion on Harry's face is clear that he has no idea what Niall is talking about.
"Y'know, the one with the really dark hair and good looks! Remember, we thought he was gonna be real uppity but turned out to be real cool?" He focuses his attention on me and makes a bunch of hand gestures. "I'm tellin' ya. This guy just radiated coolness. All the ladies loved him. He makes Styles look like he fell right out of the ugly tree, hitting every branch on the way down."
"Excuse me," Harry draws his brows together in a very disapproving look as I laugh. "And what exactly does he make you look like, huh?"
"Like I only got hit once. Sorry, Styles. You have to admit I'm better looking than you. C'mon now."
I can't help the smile that creeps its way onto my face, earning another standing ovation from Harry's middle finger.
"Whatever," he huffs, his arms crossing over his chest. "Sure, I remember him. What's so special about him anyway?"
Niall's eyes grow wide in shock. "What's so special about him?! He's amazing! He's gotten into playing jazz. He's a real talent. He asked about you, too. You should meet up with him! Guess where he's at now? New Orleans! How awesome is that? I've always wanted to go there. I hear the night life is great."
"New Orleans could be fun," I say as I look over at Harry.
"I don't even know him that well."
"We don't have to hang out with him if you don't want to."
"Okay, fine. Add New Orleans to our list."
We sit for a while at the kitchen counter, just telling stories and swapping jokes. I learn very quickly that Harry is the worst joke teller and a very poor sport when we laugh at him. Niall grows fond of giving me a nickname, cutting my name to just City. Eventually I take a quick shower in Niall's bathroom to rid myself of the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Harry jumps in once I'm finished and before I know it, it's nearing 2pm.
I do my best to quickly pack my duffle bag as Niall attempts to help me out. He doesn't really do anything other than sit on the bed and toss me items that are scattered around him. By the time Harry is done packing, just shoving things into his bag without folding any clothes, I've gathered all my stuff together. He pulls on a beanie and zips up his bulky winter coat, shooting me a look as if to say I better bundle up as well.
Niall grabs my bag and takes it down to the car with us. I really appreciate his help, but the poor boy is only in a pair of sweatpants and socks, somehow completely forgetting to put on a jacket much less a shirt. I don't want to keep him long as I see the goosebumps rise on his arms.
"Well, Styles. It was real good to see you again! I'm glad you could stop by, but next time around you're gonna stay longer."
"Of course," Harry grins and the two of them exchange a warm hug. "I'll do better to keep in touch with you as well."
Niall turns to me and flashes me such a bright smile. "City, baby. It was wonderful to meet you, you beautiful, beautiful woman! Don't forget about me now. I want you to come visit. You're welcome here any time you'd like."
"Thanks for letting us stay with you on such short notice," I wrap my arms around his neck as he engulfs me in a hug. He sways side to side, dragging out our embrace for as long as he can before Harry clears his throat. He gives me one tight squeeze before finally letting go.
"Keep an eye on that one," he points at Harry and narrows his eyes. "He'll kick you off the bed if you snore."
"Fuck off," Harry laughs and rolls his eyes, opening the car door and sliding right in.
I say one last goodbye to Niall before I sit down in the passenger's seat and close the door to protect myself from the cold air. I watch him in the side mirror, quickly running back into the building as he rubs his hands up and down his bare arms. Soon enough his blonde head of hair disappears and he's gone.
As I look over at Harry, I immediately frown at the sight of him. He hangs his head low and massages his temples. His eyes are closed and his brows are creased together. It makes me think he's about to be sick.
"Are you okay?"
He looks up at me and forces a smile onto his face. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just have a bad headache. It's the hangover."
"We don't have to leave just yet if you're feeling bad."
Harry shakes his head and sits quietly in the seat. He stares at the steering wheel for a solid minute before he lifts his chin up and focuses his gaze on me. "Do you want to drive?"
"What?"
Did I hear him correctly? Is he really asking if I want to drive his car? I never thought I'd live to see the day that those words leave his mouth, especially when he's been so adamant about me not getting behind the wheel of his precious car.
"Do you want to drive? No ... scratch that. Will you please drive because this fucking headache is killing me."
I blink a few times before I nod, seeing him look so miserable. It might be best that I drive anyway. I'm actually feeling fine now, and he looks like he needs to sleep for a few more hours.
"You trust me to drive your car?" I say as we swap seats. He gets out and walks around to the passenger's side as I climb over the middle to get into the driver's, earning myself a scolding as he tells me to be careful. I place my hands on the wheel and examine all the features. I think Harry can sense my excitement because a laugh escapes his lips.
"I'm putting my faith in you that you won't ruin my beloved vehicle. Don't disappoint me," he buckles his belt and looks around himself. "This is weird. I've never sat in this seat."
"I haven't sat in this seat either."
"Don't say things like that. It makes me question my decision to let you do this."
"I'm a good driver, I swear."
"That's the kind of thing someone would say right before they crash the car," he stares at the dashboard before shaking his head. "You know what, maybe this isn't a good idea. We can wait a little while and I'll drive us there. It'll just be really late and-"
"Harry, shut up," I cut him off and buckle my own belt. I adjust the rear view mirror and move the seat so my foot can reach the pedal. "I'm already settled in so you're just going to have to deal with this for the next few hours."
He tilts his head back as if he's looking up to the sky and holds his hands together in a sort of prayer motion.
"Please send help."