Pretty Venom |N.H|

70

Jasey Foster

August 13.

My head is pounding.

It's heavy too, as if my head has been replaced with a bowling ball, and I have just been thrown down the lane and nailed a strike.

Could have been worse. I could have been a gutter ball.

As soon as the sunlight shines through the curtains, which are swaying in their spot due to the fact that the air conditioning unit below has been cranked on, I feel like I'm ready to vomit. The nausea hits me hard, and I immediately cover my face with my hands.

I turn to my left, finding Niall asleep next to me. He lays on his stomach, his arms over the pillow, with his mouth open as he sleeps.

On the nightstand next to his side of the bed, I can see a pair of his sunglasses. Still struggling to adjust to the light without the likelihood of emptying my stomach in the process, I gently lean over him, reaching for his sunglasses and putting them over my eyes before laying myself back down.

Last night was a mess.

And a complete blur.

I remember being at the club, dancing with Niall, dying my hair, and then Niall and I holding each other in the bathroom as we tried to calm down from the scare we had.

I'm no longer wearing my jeans, and I have changed out of the top I had been wearing, now sleeping in just the Pretty Venom shirt that I had put over my top last night, along with a pair of shorts that I'm guessing came from my own bag, but I don't remember changing into this.

Now being able to face the sun with the glasses shielding most of the nauseating light, I turn to my right, finding a water bottle on my nightstand. I'm not sure where this came from because I know I had finished my water when Niall and I walked back to the hotel, but considering I don't remember this belonging to anyone else, I take it as my own.

As I lean on my side to grab the bottle, I'm able to see the floor, where someone is lying shirtless.

Harry.

What.

The.

Fuck.

He uses Niall's bag as a pillow, and he lays on his back, his arms folded over his chest with his head turned away from me, but I can very easily tell that it's him.

I fall back onto the bedding, a small gasp leaving my mouth at the sight of Harry, and without looking away from his direction, I smack Niall's arm repeatedly at my side.

"What?" Niall lets out a tired groan, telling me that I have woken him up and he is not happy about it at all.

I couldn't care less about that right now.

"Get up!" I shout in a whisper, continuing to smack at his body with one hand when I can tell that he has no intention of actually waking up and checking out what has me in a panic.

"Why?"

I turn to him, seeing him with his eyes shut, his mouth barely moving as he speaks. I pull the covers off of him, and his eyes suddenly shoot open. "Wake the fuck up!"

He places both of his hands against the mattress, groaning again, this time out of utter annoyance towards me as he pushes himself up. "I'm awake!" he shouts back, turning to face me as he positions himself on his side. He lifts a hand to his face, shaking his head at me as he rubs his eyes. "What's wrong?"

I don't say anything, mostly because I'm not even sure what's going on, or what's wrong. I point to the floor, and I leave it at that.

He leans over me, placing his hands on both sides of me to balance himself as he looks down to the floor. His eyebrows furrow, and he lays himself back down on his side of the bed after seeing who is here with us. "The hell is he still doing here?"