Electric Avenue • [h.s]

chapter seven

San Francisco, California
May 24th 1976

The sunshine beats down through her lacy curtains and dances on her honeysuckle skin. When Delilah stirred from her sleep, the first thing she noticed was that she was still wearing last nights clothes-

alongside the pulsating headache throbbing behind her squinted eyes.

She kicked the bubblegum pink blanket off of her clammy body and cursed herself for her decision to sleep through a humid summer night in impractically tight lycra and sequins.

From her starfished position, she glanced out of her bedroom window, using her hand at brow-level to shield her eyes from the brightness. The morning outside was as sunshine doused as always. Birds singing their chirpy songs and the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance could have lulled her back to her slumber if only her mouth hadn't felt so dry.

How many cigarettes did she smoke last night?

A salty breeze caused the ivory curtain to sway across the window and lightly graze against her outstretched leg dangling over the side of the bed.

After a few minutes of willing herself to get up, she drove her knuckles to her eyes in hopes of rubbing away her exhaustion. She heaved out a sigh and sat up, her once narrowed eyes now jumping out of her skull at what lie ahead.

Strewn across the pouffe at the foot of her bed lay a half naked Harry, and although she herself was fully clothed- Delilah let out a squeak and clutched at her blanket, bringing it up to her chest.

"Mornin' bunny"

His voice was much deeper thanks to it's morning rasp. That usually well kept mass of curly hair was tousled with sleep, one dishevelled ringlet dangling down over his forehead.

He looks up at it, making his eyes cross, before blowing it up out of his vision and slicking it back behind his ear. 

So. Many. Questions.

"You...we? No-" Her mouth opens to speak but closes itself after a few syllables like a shellshocked goldfish.

Harry rolled his eyes as he stretched his muscular, bare arms up above his head nonchalantly.

"Quit buggin'. Nothing happened" He yawned, pulling himself to his feet. He grabbed the trousers he must have discarded of at some point in the night and pulled them up his tanned legs, with a half-assed shimmy as he wiggled them past his hips.

Delilah hoped she was somehow just in the middle of a very vivid dream right now, and was absolutely not waking up to an annoyingly adorable, mutually hungover Harry Styles getting dressed in her frilly pink bedroom.

But alas, she was assured that yes, this was an all too real waking nightmare when he spoke again.

"Got anything that'll fit?" He motioned to his bare torso.

"Isn't it usually the guy offering his shirt to the girl the morning after?" Delilah joked, but Harry just stared at her blankly.

"Fine I'll just walk home shirtless. Maybe get arrested for indecent exposure. The opportunities are endless"

"I don't think that's how it works"