Ride. {H.S.} {CURRENTLY UNDER EDITING/ON HOLD}

Thirteen

Slight T.W. Charlie does have to throw up in this chapter but can't, and has a hard time doing so, so harry does resort to having her throw up, it's only a few lines so if it makes you uncomfy feel free to skip, other than that, enjoy this fluffy chaos of a chapter

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{Charlie's P.O.V.}

When I woke up it was in a frenzy but I felt like I couldn't move, and that was just one of the many things I noticed.

One, every muscle in my body felt like it was being ripped in half every time I moved.

Two, I was not in my bed, or even at my house.

Three, I wasn't wearing my own clothes. I was in clothes that weren't my own and way too big for me but were extremely comfortable.

Four, I had no recollection of last night which scared me the most. I didn't think I drank that much.

Five, I had a strong feeling I was safe. I felt this familiar safe feeling that I've felt a few times before.

And when I peeked my eyes open I saw a familiar head of chocolate brown curls and the toned smooth skin of his back as he was laying on his stomach his arms tucked under his pillow supporting his head, now I knew why I felt safe because I was with Harry but how and when did I get here.

I laid there on my back now, wracking my brain trying to piece shit together but it just came in bits and pieces. There were still holes in the story. I was at the bar I knew that much, but I didn't drink that much that was for sure, I also knew my limits and I know for a fact I didn't surpass them, so what the fuck happened. I remember going to the bathroom... and I think I called Harry? I remember him saying my name but its all so fucking fuzzy

And now I was extremely fucking worried that I couldn't remember shit.

Oh god did we have sex?

No, he wouldn't have done that, and from what I could feel there was no ache between my legs which was usually Harry and I fucked. Not to mention I was fully dressed, I mean my bra was off but other than that I was fully dressed.

No, I was freaking out.

But my thoughts couldn't get the best of me as I felt a wave of nausea hit me. I thought that was all it was, just a feeling but second, later I was throwing back the covers and running to the bathroom I saw attached to his room, almost tripping over the oversized sweatpants as they got caught under my feet. My muscles burned as I moved especially when my knees hit the floor and leant over the toilet but nothing came up.

Oh, fuck off don't be a bitch.

I hated when this happened, I had to throw up and wanted to, even though I hated it, but I hated being nauseous even more, but there were just some days where it wouldn't come. I heard the door creak open and I glanced over and saw Harry, who knelt beside me and placed a hand on my back.

"I don't want to" I protested out of discomfort.

"Baby you have to get that shit out of your system" he said gently. What shit is he referring to, all I had was alcohol. From what I remember anyway.

"I literally can't, it's just sitting there I hate it" I groaned out.

"Stick your fingers in your mouth" he states calmly but nonchalantly. I let out a groan of disgust.

"I don't wanna"

"Charlie" he warns.

"Harry" I mock.

I heard him sigh before threading his fingers in my hair at the back of my head and lightly tipping it back. Before I could protest his weird antics I felt his free hand come up and grip my jaw lightly, my mouth parting in shock before I felt his two fingers shove their way into my mouth and hit the back of my throat before he retracted them just as fast and before I knew it I was hunched over the toilet and started vomiting violently.