Here We Stand [H.S]

135.*

"Well, after endless crying she's finally drifted off to sleep." I sighed, closing the door to my bedroom behind me.

I unzipped the back of my dress and let it slip to the floor, leaving me in my underwear as I quickly searched for a shirt to wear to bed.

So much had gone on today, that all I wanted was my bed and Harry behind me, holding me as I fell asleep in his arms.

But after a weird couple of hours at the pub (and Dan being thrown out by Alex and Charlie) I found myself immediately sorting Molly out and offering her a place to stay at Gran's house, before coming to terms with the fact my brother was here from America also.

Not to mention that he had also punched my ex in the face and broke his nose, and then spent most of the evening hanging out with me, Harry, and my family and friends, laughing, drinking and catching up.

Needless to say, Ryan's arrival had been the talk of the afternoon- until that was eclipsed by the introduction that he was in fact my twin brother.

It had been a strange, strange day to say the least... I was just grateful I had alcohol to see me through it.

And Harry, of course.

Speaking of which, Harry was already in bed, topless and in his boxers, leaning against the headboard with his phone in his hand, as he watched me pulling on one of his leopard print shirts.

"I can't find mine, so yours will have to do." I said, doing half of the buttons up.

I couldn't be bothered to do the rest.

"That shirt cost me like... $800, Izzy. And you're wearing it to bed?" He asked incredulously, "You're lucky that I love you, woman."

"And doesn't it look good on me?" I teased him, spinning around on the spot; "And eight hundred dollars on a fucking shirt? Are you serious?"

"Suits you better anyway. And I like my shirts..." He pouted, "Molly okay though?" He asked me, and I nodded, "Poor love's had a hell of a day, as have you." He added, taking me by the hand as I neared the bed, pulling me onto his lap; "Are you okay, Rocky?"

I smirked, "Barely Rocky, my fist didn't touch him."

Harry snickered, his cheek half lazily rising as he smiled through tired, drunk enough eyes.

"Yeah, but your foot did though. Maybe I should call you Rocky Ballboa..." He murmured, "Get it? Cos you hit him with the ball of your-"

I shushed him, placing my hand over his mouth.

"I get it, Mickey. It was actually my knee, but whatever."

Harry stared at me, a look of amusement on his face.

"I don't know whether to find it completely weird that you just called me Mickey or a complete turn on because you know your Rocky trivia and that's sexy as hell."

"Well, you did train me up rather well..." I giggled quietly.

"Obviously." Harry remarked, his hand creeping around my waist; "I would have given my life to have seen you bring that fucker down to his knees."

I smiled, stroking his chest.

"I just can't believe he did that to her... sick bastard doesn't even cover it." He whispered, his eyes meeting mine; "If we hadn't have gotten together and were just friends like before, if he had laid a finger on you, Iz-" he started, shaking his head angrily; "I dread to think what I would have done."

I had refrained from telling Harry the disgusting things I had overheard about me from Dan... it would have only caused him to be even more wound up and there was nothing we could do about it anyway.