A Crazy Thing Called Love (Harry Sytles Fanfic.)

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"So you don't want to go with him, but you don't want me to tell you not to?

Harry

"Harry."

I groan and squeeze my eyes shut, tensing my body up. Evidently that means pulling someone closer to me but I have no idea who the fuck it is. I don't remember a lot of last night but if there is some fucking girl in my bed that I don't know or that isn't Carmen I'm going to kill myself. I will legitimately want to die because then I've officially fucked my whole life up.

"Harry, wake up."

That voice is surprisingly familiar. Slowly but surely I peel my eyes open and the blonde hair in front of me makes my nerves lessen. I slowly lift my head to peer over her shoulder. Carmen looks up at me and my whole body relaxes.

"Fuck, it's you." I lay back down behind her, just now noticing that we're definitely spooning. And I mean I'm holding her really close to me.

"Who else would it be?" she asks.

"I don't know, but I can't remember much from last night. I don't remember going to bed together."

"Me neither," she says. "But I assumed it was you."

"Yeah." My eyes close again since she doesn't seem to mind us cuddling right now. Once I'm settled in I feel her start to trace her fingertips over my hand, which is hanging limply over her stomach. I actually have my boxers on so I'm assuming we didn't do anything...

"Harry?"

"Yeah."

"I really have to pee."

I laugh a little and separate myself from her a bit so she can get up. Instead of going to the end to get off the bed she puts her legs over my torso and sits on my stomach. I groan and she laughs as she jumps off the bed and to my surprise she's wearing one of my tshirts. Only my tshirt. Just my...okay.

Little pieces of last night remain in tact in my memory. Like seeing Travis and Carmen and playing beer pong with Louis and...oh. Me and Carmen. We...definitely kissed. A lot. Like a lot.

But I don't remember anything else, so that must mean it didn't go further than that. That I would definitely remember. I would, wouldn't I? I fucking hope so. That would not be a good thing.

"I feel like shit," Carmen groans, swinging my door shut and crawling back over me. She lays on her side facing me and pulls the blankets up to her neck. After a few minutes she opens her eyes again. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm not."

"But you are."

"I do have a question."

She smiles and closes her eyes again. "We didn't do anything last night."

"That's not what I was going to ask," I lie. She laughs a little but doesn't say anything. "Okay, fine. I don't remember a lot of last night."

That's where she opens her eyes again. "Really?"

"I remember...stuff with us," I tell her. She smiles shyly and pulls the covers up a little further. "But not a lot else."

"How fortunate," she says sarcastically.

"Come on, it's not that bad. It's not like it hasn't happened before," I mutter.

"Harry."

"Sorry," I laugh. "Just saying."

"I drank so much last night," she says. "How do I remember it?"