"Damnit-" is the first thing I heard when I slowly opened my eyes, staring up at the night sky. It takes me a minute to gather my thoughts, remembering where I am and who I'm with.
I look to both of my sides and realize I am still laying down in the backseat of Harry's car, my guitar being at the bottom of the floorboard now. The car was stopped, and I sit up a little to see Harry at the back of the car opening the trunk. He was rubbing the back of his head like he hit it or something.
He looks up and meets eyes with me, his expression changing.
"You sure do sleep a lot." He murmurs, while grabbing both of our bags from the trunk.
"Yeah- I've been on tour for six months." I say, sitting up fully now and adjusting my dress.
"Well, we're here." He says, walking up to my car door and opening it for me.
I step out of the car and take in all of my surroundings. We were in the busy streets of some city, I am not sure which one. I turn to my right to see a tall hotel building, soon realizing it was the Marriott.
"Holy shit- do we really need this nice of a hotel for one night?" I ask him, still staring at awe at the building in front of me.
"Not the nicest I've stayed in." Harry smirks in a cocky tone. I sarcastically roll my eyes at him and can't help but let a smile escape from my lips.
I turn around to face Harry who was still holding the door open, causing me to realize that I was still in the way of the door, preventing him from closing it. I step out of the way and to his side.
He shuts the door and then grabs his keys out of his pocket, locking the car doors. I grab my bag from his hand and start walking towards the hotel abruptly.
It wasn't long until I felt Harry's presence beside me again, matching my pace as we walk across the busy street. I glance up at him to see him keeping his facial expression straight as we hurriedly walk into the expensive hotel.
We walk up the doors and Harry steps in front of me, opening the door for me. I give him a nod before stepping into the luxurious, immediately being overwhelmed by the smell of expensive perfumes and cologne.
The lobby looked like an expensive restaurant almost- chandeliers, polished wooden tables with leather chairs. I was blown away.
It wasn't until I heard Harry's voice from across the room that I realized I was just staring at the room around me. I turned to see Harry talking to the woman at the front desk. His stance was very laid back; he had a 'I don't have to try' way about him. I admired him for a second before I started walking over to him.
"Styles and Thomson." He says with his deep English accent.
"Oh right here- Rooms 205 and 207." The front desk lady smiles, reaching into a drawer that was below my line of view. She pulls out to gold key cards, one saying 205 and the other saying 207.
"Thank you princess." Harry smirks before giving her a flirtatious wink. I internally gag at the sight.
Harry turns back around at me, his smug smirk still plastered across his face. He hands me the room key that says 205 on it.
"There you go, princess." He teases, making me roll my eyes.
"Thank you." I say, walking away from him and towards the elevator.
Once again, I felt his presence beside me, but this time he slung his arm over my shoulder, leaning in to whisper something in my ear.
"There are people taking pictures to your right." He murmurs, looking straight ahead but keeping his arm draped over to me.
I sneakily glance to my right to see someone who was trying to secretly take pictures by hiding it underneath the table they were sitting at.
I lightly laugh at the sight- it always cracks me up when someone tries to take pictures secretly.
We meet the elevator doors and Harry reaches forward and presses the open button. He was keeping his arm draped around me, which was a weird feeling.
I know he was simply doing it because he has a flirtatious, touchy personality, but I wasn't used to PDA. Dylan and I never really showed public affection to each other because of paparazzi and simply because we always felt weird doing stuff like kissing and holding hands in public. I know an arm over the shoulder is harmless, but it's still different.
The elevator doors slide open, and Harry and I both step into them simultaneously with our suitcases dragging behind us. I walk in to the left side, leaning my back against the wall. Harry does the same except on the right side.
I look down at my feet and take the tip of my shoe and drag it along the floor, this was painfully awkward. Sometimes Harry and I can have conversations effortlessly, but sometimes we just sit there in awkward silence.
It wasn't until I heard the flicker of a lighter when I shot my head up to see Harry with a cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth.
"Harry!" I exclaim, walking over to him and snatching the cigarette from his mouth.
"What the hell!" He says, throwing his arms up in the air. I stand right in front of him, close enough to where I have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.
"You're not supposed to smoke inside! We could get kicked out." I say, sticking the cigarette in my dress pocket, away from Harry.
But, to my surprise he suddenly reaches into my pocket and tried to grab the cigarette. Out of reflex I grab his forearm and try to yank it out of my pocket. His arm doesn't budge though, and he keeps his fingers digging around the for cigarette.
"Harry!" I say, trying to yank his arm out of my pocket. But, he quickly yanks his arm out his self, revealing a white stick in between his fingers. He gives me a cheeky sarcastic smile before sticking it back in his mouth.
I roll my eyes and step away from him, giving up.
Soon enough the elevator doors slide open again, revealing a long hallway. I glance at Harry before grabbing the handle of my suitcase and walking out of the elevator.
I glance at the doors and soon realize my room is to the left. Harry follows behind me, coming up to my side again.
I come to an abrupt stop when I see the door with the number 205 on it. I grab my keycard out of my pocket and slide it across the key card code device thing. The door makes a clicking sound, my signal to turn the knob. When I open the door, I am shocked at the sight.
There was a huge window all across the wall with the bed across it, a beautiful view of the city. I drop my bags at the doorway and walk in to the small but luxurious hotel room.
"Nice, huh?" I hear from behind me. I turn around to see Harry following me into the room, arms crossed on his chest as he takes in his surroundings too.
"Yeah- how much was this?" I ask him.
"A gentlemen never tells." He says, walking over to my queen sized bed and plopping himself down on it, resting his arms behind his head.
"Isn't your room down the hall?" I ask him, walking to the edge of the bed to where he was laying down.
"Yep." He mumbles, closing his eyes.
"Well-"
"Wanna go down to the bar with me?" He interrupts me.
"Oh- no I really shouldn't." I shake my head.
"Oh c'mon. It'll be fun." He smiles, opening his eyes again.
"No- I really shouldn't drink. Something bad happens every time I drink." I refuse again.
"Who said you had to drink?" He smirks, sitting up straight in the bed. Even when he was sitting down he was still eye level with me.
"I have to get up early tomorrow." I say, now just trying to come up with excuses.
"Okay, suit yourself." He suddenly flips his legs over the side of the bed, positioning them so mine were between his. He stands up so that are chests are almost touching, causing a shift of the atmosphere in the room.
I don't know why- but having Harry this close to me made my breath hitch. I couldn't help it- he is a very attractive guy.
"Have fun, princess." He says, looking down on me for one more second before stepping away and walking towards the door.
Once he shuts the door behind him I immediately let go of a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I sigh and plop myself down on the bed, where Harry just was.
This has been a stressful fucking week. First with the last couple shows, then figuring out I have to work with Harry Styles, then getting into a fight with Dylan, and now being in Pennsylvania. How did this happen?
Yes, a drink did sound good. I don't lie, it actually sounded fucking amazing. But, every time I drink, I do something I regret. Cliche? I know. But it's true. Last time I got wasted I called my ex boyfriend from 10th grade and told him about my sex life. It was horrible.
But before I even realize what I am doing, I sit up from the bed, grab a cardigan from my suitcase and head toward the elevator.
I was going to have a drink with Harry Styles.
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