[Neither of them promised forever, yet it hurt all the same.]
River Hamilton cannot afford to fall for just anyone. To continue the legacy of her family the only way she can, she must eventually marry someone she may not want to spend the rest of he...
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R.HAMILTON
River spent the night at Harry's apartment, slept in a grey, worn-out t-shirt and navy-blue cotton shorts that had distressed ties and a single back pocket. The clothes smelled like Harry, and the bed smelled like Harry. It was warm and so was the man who kept her comfortable during the night.
There was no way she was going to go back home after the ball and sleep in her bed, knowing that her parents made rude comments about Harry, and certainly not after her brothers refused to put their feet down. River didn't expect them to go to war for her but she would've preferred if they didn't just sit there while their mother made accusations River knew weren't true.
Harry had gotten incredibly drunk. It was most likely to forget the way he was introduced to the Hamilton parents but River couldn't blame him. He almost made a spectacle of himself as he began to undo his tie at some point during the evening and flung it around above his head like a cowboy would a lasso. Although River was also slightly intoxicated, she was much more clear-headed than her boyfriend, and while she laughed at the scene he made, she eventually shut it down. She still had a name to protect and a reputation to uphold, an image she would've never dared to taint.
Plus, she wanted to save Harry's dignity. As she watched him sleep peacefully in the morning, she giggled to herself remembering the antics of the previous night. There was no way he wasn't going to be embarrassed about it.
Well, that was if he recalled anything of what happened.
It was nine-thirty in the morning when River's body awakened her, very much later than she usually set her alarm. The pounding headache drove her out of bed and to the other side of the bedroom where she left her bag, filled with all the necessary items she knew she'd need. After she took some ibuprofen, she did her usual morning routine and got back into bed, Harry still sound asleep.
It calmed her to watch him dream. There were no lines of concentration on his face, his breathing was slow and regulated. If she didn't pay close enough attention to the movement of his chest, she would've believed he was no longer alive. How he managed to sleep so deep was pretty astonishing.
At the same time, her brain did not stop whirring. The information River searched for was saved on her personal laptop, nestled inside of her bag, just a few steps away from where she relaxed in bed. A moment separated her from finally jumping into something she could never get out of and Harry waking up, inhaling deeply, and moaning in no doubt pain.
He did drink his fill, and he was no doubt going to be worse than River.
"Good morning," she said, already amused as he furrowed his brows then tugged the duvet up until he was completely covered. "Hey," she put her arm around him and leaned slightly over him. Hooked her index finger under the top of the duvet, and pulled it back. Harry remained squinting. "Let's get you back to normal, hm?"
