Harry Styles
I had no fucking idea where Cleo was and she was pissing me the fuck off without even being around.
This was a very reckless thing to do and I really tried to give her some space, thinking that by 'clearing her head' she meant going for a ten minute walk, but five fucking hours had passed and it was almost ten pm now and she still hadn't returned.
I could understand her wish to be alone to process things, I was the same. That's why I controlled myself not to follow her.
I was going crazy already, picturing all the worst-case scenarios because our situation wasn't the best, and if she fucking got herself killed or taken her I would find a way to re-kill her myself.
Fuck, telling her the truth about her dad felt like a good idea at the time, especially now that our only clue was his fucking name. I could see how heartbroken and lost Cleo was when I told her, I didn't expect her to cry.
She didn't look sad, she just seemed angry and frustrated, and watching that and not being able to do anything made me feel this weird thing in my stomach. That was why I couldn't stop myself from walking towards her and trying to comfort her somehow, I didn't know how this worked.
I mean, how were you supposed to deal with this fucked up situation? It must suck to have your reality turned upside down, but it was better than being forever stuck in a loop of lies and secrets.
Right?
Why the fuck was I overthinking about this, it wasn't even about me. I just wanted her to come back, she could've at least taken her fucking phone or I should've followed her like my gut was telling me to do in the first place.
I heard a thud coming from outside the room, as if someone had stumbled and placed their hand on the door for some support, and I desperately got up from my bed so I could check what was going on, hoping it was Cleo.
And when I opened the door, she nearly fell inside the room because she was indeed holding the door for support, and I caught her before she could fall face-first on the floor.
"Oopsies." She giggled, grabbing my arms and trying to steady herself.
I could smell the alcohol in her breath from her from a mile away.
Her blue eyes were a bit bloodshot and they looked lighter, her makeup was smudged as if she had cried more, and given the way she was tipsy, she had been drinking quite a lot. Another thing we had in common.
"Where the fuck were you?" "I asked her, letting her go so I could lock the door again.
And when I turned around to look at her, she was trying to take her leather pants off, kicking her boots to the side and almost falling again when she couldn't push the tight fabric down.
I walked towards her, grabbing her wrists and catching her attention.
"My ass hurts, I was sitting for quite a while and this is your fault." She booped my nose, pushing me to the side and walking towards her bed, sitting down as she struggled to push her pants down her legs.
I cursed under my breath, simply watching her until she finally tossed the pants to the side of her, giggling to herself when she looked down to see her underwear.
"Cleo, how much did you drink?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and wondering why I wasn't angry anymore.
"I'm not drunk, mister. I can take more than a few vodka shots." She huffed, pointing at the unicorn in the front of her panties. "Here it says have a nice day', but I didn't have a nice day."
