the cool side of the pillow {styles au}

nineteen

Songs for the chapter:

Adore You - Miley Cyrus

Outlaws - David Lambert

Faster - Matt Nathanson

Save My Heart - Jason Reeves

Cleo's POV:

My hip makes contact with the door frame as I stumble into my house. I feel so drunk right now, feet not working properly, a languid smile on my lips, and my vision slightly hazy. I'm not drunk on alcohol though; I'm drunk on Harry Styles. Oh. My. God. That boy just lit my sense on fire. I've never experienced anything more powerful or earth-shattering than that last orgasm. I'm so physically exhausted, though mentally I'm wide awake.

I press my back to the door as it creaks closed, leaning my weight against the chilled wooden surface. I take a few deep breaths, trying to tame my still erratic heart beat. Even before I notice the kitchen light flicker on, I know my dad's awake. It's almost 9:30 and I've been MIA all night... Of course he's awake.

My dad stalks into the entryway, arms crossed tightly over his chest, "Where the hell have you been?"

I flinch at his tone; my dad doesn't raise his voice at me. He used to, but ever since the Jonah incident, I think he's afraid that the smallest thing could send me over the edge. My lack of response only angers him more. He begins rapidly tapping his foot against the wood floor, gaining speed and volume quickly.

"Were you with Harry?!" He spits his name like it's poison on his tongue.

I swallow, my throat thick, "Uh... yeah."

He rubs his face exasperatedly, "Do you have some lame excuse you'd like to lay on me, or shall we skip the bull shit?"

What the fuck.

"Yeah, we can skip the bull shit. And we can also skip the part where you bull shit me about who that woman was you were with this afternoon."

His face pales and he opens his mouth to speak. But before he can utter a syllable, I'm across the foyer and halfway up the stairs. It isn't until I'm safely in my room with the door locked that I can finally breathe. My head spins with confusion over what just happened. Well that wasn't how I had planned on mentioning to my dad what I saw earlier, if I was even planning on mentioning it at all honestly. I replay the conversation over and over in my head, trying to find something to grasp onto that would help me make sense of it. But there's nothing.

My feet drag as I move lifelessly toward my bed. Before I have the chance to forget, I pull open my night stand and retrieve one of my pill bottles. In one swift motion, I have the cap twisted off and two pills in my hand. I take the three steps to my bathroom and go to the sink, turning the faucet on and sticking my head under it. Once I have a mouthful of water, I pop the pills in and swallow them easily. I shut the light off and return to my bed, collapsing on the edge. I pull my shoes off and toss them across the room.

"Ouch!" a voice hisses, startling me.

My breath hitches as I notice the figure sprawled out in my papasan chair. Although I know immediately who it is, that doesn't quell the hammering of my heart against my ribs. I watch as he untangles his lanky limbs and attempts to crawl gracefully out of the chair. I know from years of experience, that that is impossible. If it were an actual murderer rather than this idiot, I would have been toast by now. I watch on in slight amusement as he tumbles onto my floor, limbs flying out to catch him.

He quickly rights himself and fixes his hair, taking a step toward me with a smirk on his face. I don't even give him time to explain before I shove him forcefully, sending him toppling back into the chair. "You scared the shit out of me!" I grumble, turning on my heel and moving back across the room.