Toxic (Harry Styles)

Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The past is the past. It's only this day and from this day forward that matters. But in all reality, the past did matter. Maybe because it got us where we are today, or maybe because it wasn't all as dim as it was deceived to be.

The sunlight shining on my face, making my eyelids turn a different colour, wakes me in a new day. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand and realise that there's a smell, but not the bad kind. More like someone making breakfast. I stretch, inhaling deeply the wonderful aroma. Harry must be up since his presence isn't next to me.

I finally open my eyes, feeling better than I expected considering I should have a hangover from drinking yesterday. But what I saw when I looked around wasn't Harry's room.

It was mine.

How the hell did I get here?

I'm positive I went to sleep in Harry's flat with his arms wrapped around my drained body as I rested my head on his chest. But that's all gone now as I shoot up form my bed in my father's house.

I quickly uncover my body, escaping the warmth with every intention to go downstairs.

I follow the smell of what I identify as bacon and end up finding my dad with his back to me over the stove. I walk closer cautiously when he hears my footsteps and smiles gently at me.

"Morning, Shay!"

I ignore his politeness and get straight to the point, asking, "Where's Harry?"

"Harry?" He says, dubiously, as if he was test the name to see if he remembered it. "Who's Harry, Doll?"

I furrow my brows. "What do you mean "who's Harry"?" Dad turns back to cooking. "You've met him before."

"No," he laughed, "I don't believe I have."

"What are you two chattering about in here?"

My heart stops, and I mean stops, when the woman's voice comes from behind me. I turned to see if it's just my imagination, but no. There she stands with her robe tied in the front and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She looks at me with the same blue eyes that reflect mine.

It's my mum.

"Mum?" I ask in disbelief, not trusting myself to think that she's really here. "It's really you." And it is her, but something, just the tiniest thing, seems off, different.

"Of course I'm here, Honey," she chuckles at my weirdness.

Tears begin to build in my eyes as she walks forwards with her arms open. But just before she gets to me, I hear the front door open, followed by footsteps and soon another person who shouldn't be here is with us.

"Kyle?"

I jolt from the bed, feeling my stomach churn as I struggle to rip myself from Harry's tight grasp on me. My sudden movements cause a disruption to him, but I can't focus on that now. All I can think of is getting to the bathroom fast enough before throwing up on Harry's carpet floor.

I finally am able to get free and run for the bathroom down the hall and kneel before the toilet but nothing comes up. I had emptied the contents of my stomach last night. Now I'm stuck with dry heaving until it passes.

I stay on my knees, one hand clutching the edge of the tub to my left and the other to the counter on my right. I cough until I can't release anymore nonexistent air.

During this, I was scarcely aware of Harry entering the bathroom and crouching between me much like last night except my hair is up in a messy bun.