•• Harry ••
The pounding and aching sensation I was currently feeling inside my head was driving me mad, and the blinding morning light seeping through the windows isn't helping either. In fact, it's just making this situation worse.
I let out a throaty groan once the pounding headache throbbed inside my head even worse. I just wanted to bury my head into my pillows and sink into the duvet sheets until my horrible headache stops, but I know that it wouldn't do me any good if I just lay here and do nothing but complain about my unexpected headache.
I slowly fluttered my eyes open and slightly squinted my eyes to adjust with the morning rays of the sun shining through my windows. And with every ounce of strength and energy that I still had, I forced myself to sit up from my current laying position.
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand as I took in my surroundings. My window was left uncovered, which explains why the morning sunlight is seeping through and I could see the snow and frost sticking on my windows, I probably forgot to cover it with my curtains again, my white shirt is also thrown on the floor and I was only wearing my boxers.
My bedroom was a bit of a mess, some of my books are misplaced and an empty beer bottle is strangely lying beside the pile of clothes.
A beer bottle? How did that get inside my bedroom?
I tried to remember what happened last night and tried to play the possible events that might lead me to a conclusion or an answer to what happened. But the more I tried to remember, the more my head hurts and the throbbing headache wouldn't go away.
And no matter how hard I try, nothing comes up. I couldn't remember a single thing what happened last night, and I know that my memory failed me to come up with answers for my questions.
I stifled a yawn and went straight ahead to my adjoined bathroom. I've decided that I'll take a nice warm shower to at least subside my headache. And maybe I could drink an advil too, because I'm guessing that I'm experiencing a hangover right now. Even though I only drank one bottle of beer at the pub last night, but judging by the empty beer bottle I have in my bedroom, I'm concluding that maybe something else happened last night that I wasn't really aware of.
After taking a quick shower, I got dressed up and started picking up the mess inside my room, the mess that I still haven't got any idea on how it happened.
I placed the misplaced books back into its shelves, I picked up my shirt from the floor and threw it into the laundry basket, and finally, and I picked up the empty beer bottle.
I furrowed my brows together, and still, I can't remember what happened last night. Not even a single memory or scene could replay inside my head. All I remember was taking Louis, Niall, Chris and Mason home, and that was about it, I couldn't remember what happened after that.
Once I was done fixing up my room and putting everything back into its specific place, I headed downstairs with the empty beer bottle still clutched tightly in my left hand.
My headache somehow subsided, but it wasn't completely gone yet. Even though it wasn't as intense and painful as it was earlier, there was still some kind of remainder in the back of my head that's honestly irritating me. And I knew that I had to take an Advil for this.
Once I reached the last step, I saw Max, who was already sitting at our dining table with his fingers wrapped around a cup of steaming hot coffee and a stack of blueberry pancakes beside it.
He seemed to noticed my presence when he turned to look at me, with his usual annoying cheeky smirk plastered across his face. And when Max gives anyone a smirk like that, it only means one thing; he's about to annoy the shit out of you.
I ignored the smirk that Max was giving me and went towards the sink, placing the empty bottle down on the faux marble counter top. I pretended to not notice the smirk that Max was giving me right now, which I still haven't got any idea why he's smirking at me like that, and I took out a glass and filled it with some cold water from the fridge. I opened a small drawer near the bottom of the sink, it's where all of our medicine is stored. I rummaged through it, hoping to find an Advil to save me from my troublesome headache, and to my luck, I thankfully found one.
I was about to take the Advil, when Max suddenly cleared his throat ever so dramatically, making me turn around to look at him. I raised a brow at him, to silently ask him what he was clearing his throat for.
"You shouldn't be taking an Advil without eating anything first. Come here, I've made you some breakfast, you can thank me later." Max said and I tried not to let a scoff escape from my lips.
I walked towards to where he was seated, with the glass of cold water still tightly gripped in my hand, along with the Advil. I took the vacant seat across him and placed my cold glass of water and the Advil beside the stack of pancakes.
"Here, eat this. I've already had some while waiting for you, I didn't expect that you'll wake up later than I thought." Max said as he slightly pushed the stack of pancakes to me while using the tip of his fingers.
I gladly accepted the plate stacked with blueberry pancakes, making my mouth water with just the sight of it. Max handed me a fork and I started slicing a piece of the fluffy pancake and popped a piece inside my mouth.
"I didn't know that you could cook this well. I must say, this one's pretty decent." I said after swallowing the chunk of pancake I had in my mouth and started to slice another one, making sure I dipped the pancake slice into some extra maple syrup for sweetness.
Max let out a breath, or a scoff rather before replying, "I can decently cook, Harold, thank you very much."
"Says the one who almost caught the whole kitchen on fire just because he didn't know how to turn off the goddamn stove." I retorted and I could hear him mutter a 'touché' under his breath.
"Alright, but anyway, how was your sleep? Slept well?" He asked all of a sudden, completely diverting the subject away from him almost catching our kitchen on fire. I almost let out a laugh when the quick memory replayed inside my head.
"It would've been good if I didn't woke up with a pounding headache and with my room being a total mess." I muttered under my breath, almost inaudibly that I wasn't even sure that Max heard it. But I was proven wrong when Max spoke up again.
"Oh yeah, about that. . ." He trailed off. I looked up at him, expecting him to continue what he was about to say, but instead, he looked down at his cup of brown coffee, intently watching how the steam rises from the cup.
I cleared my throat, making him divert his attention and gaze towards me. Once I got his attention, I raised a single brow at him, silently urging him to continue on.
"Eh, you wouldn't really want to know, Harold. I don't think you'd like to hear me saying how you spilled your deep and darkest secret." He taunted jokingly, forcing his voice to sound even deeper than it already was.
I rolled my eyes at his exaggeration and took another bite from the blueberry pancake, I hear him let out a chuckle before taking a sip from his coffee.
"But seriously, I don't think you'd like to hear what you said last night. I could tell that you've been keeping this secret of yours for a while now."
"We'll talk about that later, Max. Now, tell me how I got my room messed up and explain why I saw an empty bottle of Heineken lying on my bedroom floor. Not to mention, I woke up and didn't remember a single thing that happened last night, apart from me taking some of the lads home." I said before grabbing the cold glass of water beside my plate and taking a sip from it, feeling the refreshing and cold water go down through my throat.
"You sure you really wanna know?"
"Why, does it look like I'm joking?" I retorted back and he meekly nodded his head before finally explaining what happened last night.
"Alright, so um, after I took Liam and Zayn home, I went back towards our apartment to see that you weren't here yet. And I also felt like I hadn't drunk enough alcohol, so I thought it wouldn't hurt if I opened up a bottle of beer for myself. And then you came home, and you said you wanted to join me for the drinks. . ." He explained, trailing off mid-sentence again. I nudged him from under the table to make him continue.
"And uh. . . you had way too many drinks. As ridiculous and unbelievable it might sound, you downed five bottles of beer last night."
I furrowed my brows at him and my lips slightly formed into a frown from confusion. I know myself, and I know that I rarely drink that much. Sure I drink alcohol from time to time, but never in my whole existence had I drank that many, usually I'd drink two or three if I wanted but I could never go for five. The last time I got too drunk was about four years ago, when the explicable happened to me, and I'm talking about my horrendous moment back in the past.
"Why did I even wanted to join you in the first place? I rarely drink here, I usually drink at pubs. Plus, where did you get all that beer?" I asked him, because to be quite frank, his explanation really sounds unbelievable to me. I'd usually drink if there's something to celebrate about or if I have a problem and I want to drink my sorrows away.
"I literally had to go to the nearest convenience store to buy some beer because you wouldn't stop whining like a child about how one bottle of beer isn't enough. And I don't know, you just told me last night that you're excited for something today."
"Oh good god, did I really acted like that?" I asked to which he laughed at. I honestly feel quite embarrassed right now with the way I acted, and what's worse is that I don't even remember that I acted like that. Plus, I drank five bottles of beer because I was excited for something? That's quite unlikely of me to do. I guess I'm learning more about myself here.
"Yes you did, Harold. But that's nothing compared to what you told me. Oh god, you spilled your unspoken secret." He said again and an annoying smirk formed on his lips again. Oh god, this is where he'll probably annoy the tease and annoy the shit out of me.
"And what secret did I even tell you that you're so giddy about?" I asked him while slightly rolling my eyes before taking another bite from the pancake.
"Well, for starters, you kept on gushing about how miss Swift looks so beautiful and ravishing, and honestly, you acted and talked like a little school girl who finally got a notice from her long time crush." Max explained and I darted my eyes to look at him. I furrowed my brows together and I could feel my heart skipping beats as I felt nervous all of a sudden.
Oh god, please don't tell me that I drunkenly told Max about my little crush on Taylor. Because if I did, I was sure that I'm never going to hear the end of it.
"A-And? So what if I told you how beautiful Taylor looks? I could say the same with Karlie and Selena." I fumbled as I took another sip from my glass of water.
"Oh come on, Harold. Don't be so daft on me now, and as a matter of fact, you only kept talking about Taylor last night, literally. You kept saying how enthused and delighted you were when she always comes to your gigs. And actually, do you want to know the other reason why you drank so much last night?" He said and if I'm going to be honest, I wouldn't want to know now because of what I might have told Max last night. And I was afraid that I might have slipped about my feelings for Taylor.
Max didn't wait for my response and decided to continue on with his explanation, "While you were drinking, you drunkenly blurted out how you fucked up last night. You said, and I quote, 'I can't believe that I told her that, I basically told her that I didn't dedicated the song to her, when really, Zayn and Louis are right, the song is entirely about her. What if she thinks that she isn't special to me? What if she decides that we're only meant to be friends? What am I going to do Max? What the bloody hell am I going to do?!', and unquote."
Max finished with slightly raising his voice at the end and imitating my British accent, even though he failed miserably. I widened my eyes at what he just told me, I almost even choked on the pancake I was eating.
"There's- there's no way I could've said that."
"Believe what you want to believe, Harry. But you literally said that, and even though you're not saying it, I know that's partially the reason why you drank last night. So, you were drinking because you told her that the song you wrote wasn't about her? I gotta admit though, that was a pretty shitty move, Harold. Why couldn't you just say yes and tell her that it's about her?" Max scolded and said it so nonchalantly.
"You're honestly not making me feel any better about this, Max."
"Oh, is that so? Well, if it makes you feel any better, I also like to tell you that you finally confessed your true feelings about miss Swift, Harold." He retorted back, I instantly shot up to look at him, staring at him wide-eyed.
I knew that this was somehow going to happen, and I expected the inevitable, but still, I couldn't help myself from being worried and nervous about it.
Max saw the surprised and shocked look on my face, and a cheeky grin formed on his face once again.
"How did I told y-you?" I asked, suddenly being the stuttery type and feeling all my insides being knotted and twisted up.
I felt weary and nervous about this because I told Max fucking Carson about my feelings for Taylor! Which isn't supposed to happen, because I could only imagine how Max will be so obvious about this towards her. And the only people I've told about my true feelings for Taylor are the four lads, because even though they like teasing me about it, at least I'm sure they could keep their mouths shut and sealed. Unlike Max, who I am very unsure of.
"You just simply told me that you've got a crush on Taylor." Max replied ever so casually and I heaved out a groan. I placed down my silverware and rubbed my eyes with the use of my fingers.
"What else did I told you that you weren't supposed to know?"
"Nothing too exciting to be honest. You just literally kept gushing about how lovely Taylor's eyes were, how her smile always finds a way to brighten up your day, and how her laugh is always music to your ears. Oh God, Harold, I didn't know you could be so cheesy." He laughed, throwing his head back laughing like a child. I let out another exaggerated groan, he wasn't supposed to know or hear that!
"And oh this is my favorite one by far, you told me that you were suspicious about Mason's intentions towards her and you even told me that you wouldn't-"
"Alright, I think I get what's your point, Max. But please don't take it earnestly. I'm drunk after all. I'm just blurting out and rambling all over the littlest of things." I said, before slicing the last piece of the buttery pancake and placing it in my mouth with the use of my fork. After swallowing it, I took a sip from my glass of water and set it down back on the table after taking a quick drink.
"Oh, so were things you said about Taylor weren't true? Were you just maundering over how she's so beautiful then?"
"Uh, well, maybe not about-"
"Ha, and that's what I thought, Styles. I knew you really had a crush on Taylor after you confessed. It's hard to conceal your true feelings for someone you've deeply fell head over heels for."
"Goodness, Max, it's just a tiny crush! Don't make it a big-"
Then again, I was cut off mid-sentence by none other than Max Carson himself.
"Harry, the only one who you're trying to convince is yourself. Why do you keep insisting that you only have a 'tiny crush' on her? Why don't you just admit that you're falling for her? In addition, why don't you ask her out then?"
I breathe out a sigh before taking the blister pack that I took out from our cabinet a few moments ago. I popped out an advil from the metallic foil pack, the package slightly making faint crinkling sounds as I took out a piece of advil. I placed the blue colored advil inside my mouth and swallowed it down promptly with the remaining water I had in my glass.
I wiped my dampened lips with the back of my hand as I placed the empty glass back on the table. I glanced at Max and furrowed my brows at him once I realized he had been staring at me the whole time, which I find quite weird.
"You haven't answered my questions." He answered almost immediately, as if he just read my mind..
"Do I have to?"
"You need to."
He corrected and emphasized, I slightly shook my head and fully rested my back on the back of the chair I was sitting on.
"I honestly don't know. Maybe I'm just afraid of the fact that she wouldn't like the idea of me fancying her? Or I'm terrified that maybe if I do ask her out, I would get rejected in the end? That she'll stay away from me and she'll start to avoid me? Because that shit hurts like hell, Max. And I don't want to go through another heartbreak. I can't risk it."
Max steadily nodded his head, as if he's composing and thinking of a smart reply in his head while I prattle on about my feelings. I almost feel like this is a kind of therapy or some sort, and I frankly don't like the feeling or the atmosphere it comes along with it.
Because sitting here, while Max is sitting across from me, and the deafening silence staying afloat amidst the dense atmosphere between us is definitely not my kind of place and setting I belong to. And frankly, I don't think anyone would like to be stuck in this kind of situation as well.
After for what seems like an eternity, Max finally formed his reply, "That's the point, Harry. Love is all about taking risks. It's better to shoot your shot rather than not knowing if she ever feels the same way. You should try, and if she rejects you, then at least you could say that you tried, right? Plus, I doubt she'll even reject you. I could tell she feels the same way about you too. I think she's just waiting for you to make the first move."
I was about to retort back to what he said, when Max suddenly continued his already long lecture, "And if you're feeling too insecure about Mason taking a liking at her, I'm here to tell you that you don't have to worry about him at all."
I knitted my brows together again once Max said that. He read my confused expression and heaved out an exasperated sigh.
"Oh God, Harry. Weren't you paying attention last night at all? Oh, that's right, I forgot, you were too busy admiring Taylor from afar. But anyways, don't you recall what Mason said last night?" I simply shook my head to give him an answer.
"He said that he recently broke up with his girlfriend, or more like, recently found out she was cheating behind his back. But anyhow, he literally admitted last night that he might be reconsidering his gender preferences and his own too. In simpler terms, he's thinking about if he's gay or not. And also, please don't tell anyone about this or I'm literally going to kill your British arse off, but he actually finds Louis cute."
I let out a faint series of chuckles while throwing my head back, laughing like a little kid. But that was soon put to an end when Max suddenly used the tip of his shoe to kick my shin.
"What are you laughing at, you British bloke?" Max asked and I wiped the tears that formed on the corner of my eyes from laughing too much.
Once I've calmed down from laughing, I cleared my throat and looked at Max, who had his eyes on me as if he's trying to burn me with his gaze.
"It's just that, now I've suddenly realized why he wanted to sit next to Louis last night in my car when I took them home. That explains why."
"Holy shit, he really said he wanted to sit next to Louis? That guy wanted it to keep it a secret, apart from me of course, but he's being way too obvious for God's sake."
"How did you even know that he finds Louis cute? He told you?"
I suddenly asked, if Mason wanted to keep his secret for his own, then why did he even told Max in the first place?
"Well, after he confessed he's thinking twice about his gender, I jokingly whispered at him that, that's probably why he kept staring at Louis the whole time you guys were performing. After I said that, he stared at me wide-eyed and I didn't really meant it to turn out like that. But I did promise not to spill it to anyone, especially to Louis. But apparently, I've already told you, so yeah. "
"Don't worry about your little secret, your secret is safe with me."
"But anyways, back to our original topic, you don't have to worry about Mason. Taylor's all yours now."
"You forgot about Chris." I grumbled under my breath as I rested my the side of my head on my hand that was propped on the table.
"Him? Oh please, he doesn't stand a chance against you. Sure, he may be good looking as well with his perfect set of white teeth, but Taylor has her eyes on you."
I was planning to retort his statement, but on second thought, I didn't. I wasn't a fond of Chris not just because he desperately always tries to hit on Taylor, (well, maybe a part of that is the reason) but he just seems cocky in general. And I honestly don't get why and how Liam and Zayn really get along with him well, because me, Niall, and especially Louis, couldn't really stand him.
"Now that I've told you that you should make a move on her, let's move on to another topic we need to talk about. Last night, you also drunkenly told me that you were excited about something today. Mind telling me what it is?"
Of course Max wouldn't end this conversation without letting that subject pass through. I just faintly shook my head while a smile unintentionally formed on my lips, just the thought about what I'm planning for later today already makes me smile.
"Goodness gracious, Harry, stop smiling like a school girl and tell me already. I want to know what's making you smile like that, or should I say who's making you smile like that?"
"You know who it is. I don't have to tell you, you git."
"That's not the point. Where's the fun in hearing you admit you fell head over heels with someone?"
I held back a sigh because Max wasn't going to let go of this until I do what he wants. And if I don't do what he wants, there's a big probability he wouldn't leave me alone and annoy the shit out of me.
"Fine, I like Taylor, all right? I think she's gorgeous, smart, funny and a big-hearted woman. Am I out of her league? Yes, I am. Do I think she feels the same way? No, I don't think so. Will I pursue her? Maybe, I don't know. Happy?"
"Satisfied." Max said with a smug grin on his face.
"Can you leave me alone now? I still have a massive hangover to take care of and it's going to take half a day to nurse it."
"I'll leave you alone now. But only because I know you're going to call Taylor the minute I leave you."
I didn't get to respond when he suddenly got up and left the room, filling the space with quiet silence I desperately needed.
I managed to grab my phone and cursed under my breath. Damn Max. Damn him. Because he was absolutely right that I was going to call her. It didn't even take a minute. The second he left the room, I immediately called Taylor and my hangover was the least of my worries.
••
After 397294 years, this book has finally been updated.
Special thanks to aeroplanenecklace for motivating me to finish this chapter. (And when I say finish this chapter, I meant that I wrote the last 8 paragraphs as of this moment.)
Here's a quick update/note that no one asked for:
After going on hibernation from wattpad and this book, I've been reading published books lately. Specifically contemporary and historical romances.
Because of that and going almost a year without updating, I forgot 85% of what should happen in this book. In my old phone, I had planned out what was going to happen for every chapter (I approximately guessed that this was going to have 40-45 chapters.) But guess what? That old phone died and took every single note and idea away and vanished into the depths of nothings.
That being said, I forgot the scenes I had planned out for this. But luckily enough, my pint sized brain managed to remember the main "conflict" for this book.
Another thing I would like to mention is that, if I manage to get myself together and update this book (which I still don't know when), I might write shorter chapters from now. Maybe at around 3k at most? The main reason I scarcely update is because I struggle with writing chapters. You may have noticed that the most chapters are lengthy, averaging at around 5k - 7k words. And in the back of my mind, I kept telling myself that I have to write a chapter as long as the other ones because that's the standard. And I never really end up writing the chapter. I hope you understand, maybe if I write shorter chapters from now I might update more? (Please take note of the word might 🤠.)
Anyways, if you've made it this far, I just want to thank you and give you the warmest of hugs. I hope you're doing well and staying safe. And thank you so much for reading.
Until the next one. Which may be 428256 years from now. Au revoir.