Aureate | Harry Styles

9

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: 2/14 by The Band Camino ────────────⚪️──────────────────◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►►⠀⠀ ⠀ 1:00/ 2:43

"but i can't be just friends, you're messing with my head, and i know what i said but these feelings they keep running the red..."

•••

When I wake up in Harry's bed, my head is pounding, and the light pouring in through the large windows does not help. The space on the other side of the bed is empty, but there sits two ibuprofen and a big glass of orange juice on the small table next to me. A small sticky note that reads "drink up, Em!" is under the medicine. I take the pills and drink the lukewarm juice, groaning at the wave of nausea that washes over me after I finish. I wonder how long Harry has been gone. It takes a lot for me to get out of the warm bed, but my hair is crunchy, and my skin is sticky from saltwater and sweat, so I need to shower. I dig my toes into the soft rug before pushing myself up, walking into the bathroom, and turning on the water in Harry's shower.

The clock reads 10:15, which means I have three hours to burn before I have to be at work. I stand under the stream for a few minutes with my eyes closed, my head still pounding, trying to let the water wake me up. It takes me a while to scrub the saltwater out of my hair and bring it back to its normal soft texture. Harry's body wash is a brand I don't  recognize but smells like him. I have a flashback to sitting on the beach with him last night, the same smell washing over me in that moment that is now. The water is still warm over my shoulders even after 30 minutes in the shower, and I savor it for a moment, thinking back over the night, trying to remember everything we did and said. I remember him calling me honeybee, going in the ocean, and eating ice cream on the couch. I do not remember choosing to sleep in his bed with him, which I know will be an interesting conversation for Harry and me to have later on. As I get out of the shower, my phone starts  ringing on the marble countertop, and I hop across the cold tiles to reach it before it stops. I wrap myself in a towel and sit  down on the floor, answering the phone.

"Good morning," I say, voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Good morning, love," Harry's smooth voice rings through the phone. He sounds very cheery. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Honestly pretty awful, but it was worth it," I grimace, "I had a lot of fun last night."

"You were a sight to behold. Pretty touchy." I can hear a teasing tone in his voice, but that doesn't stop me from feeling embarrassed. He loves to make me squirm.

"I am so sorry," I feel my face flush a deep red, "I'm like that when I'm drunk."

"I didn't mind, Em, it was cute," Harry reassures, "I was pretty affectionate too. So does your head hurt, or is it more nausea?"

"Both, honestly," I sigh, "Tequila always makes me feel terrible."

"Did you drink that whole glass of juice I left you?" he asks, "You didn't drink much water yesterday, so you definitely need to rehydrate."

"Yes, and I took the medicine," I say, nodding, "Thank you for setting those out for me."

"Anything for you, honeybee," He tells me and I can practically hear him smiling through the phone, "There's breakfast in the refrigerator for you that will need to be warmed up, as well as some coffee. Please help yourself to anything else you want and just lock up when you leave. I'm in the studio today, so let me know when you're off work, and we can try to do something fun tonight."