Henry Cavill Imagines

"For someone who claims to hate me, you sure do know how to love me."

YN's POV...

Have you ever woken up with a banging feeling in your head that makes you want to jump off of an airplane flying over Mount Everest without a parachute?

Because that is how I feel right now.

Usually you're supposed to wake up feeling fresh and rejuvenated, not like death. Usually you're supposed to wake up with clothes on. Usually you're supposed to wake up knowing where you are.

But, that's just usually, not reality, and sure as hell not how things go down in my life apparently.

I press my hand to my forehead and sit up slowly with a quiet groan, afraid that if I make any loud or sudden movements that the banging in my head will only worsen and I'll be falling on the floor in a crying mess. I make sure that the silk beige sheets are covering my chest before I take notice of two red Advil tablets with a bottle of water on the side next to a very over-the-top lamp. This lamp is almost as tall as the headboard. Who would even buy that? Under the tablets is a folded light blue dress shirt, so I slip it on after taking the Advil and chug the water until the very last drop. My throat honestly feels like the Sahara.

Looking around the room, my nose crinkles in distaste. Who the fuck did I sleep with last night? Given who lives in this place is obviously rich. From my spot on the bed you can see the city of London and all of the lives of people going on. I step out of bed and my feet come in contact with a very furry carpet. I look down and squeal. That better be faux or else I'll flip the hell out. It looks like actual bear fur and the thought of someone skinning a bear for the fur makes me want to vomit all of the shit I drank last night.

I walk into the ensuite bathroom and curse at myself when I see two sinks and a vanity. Does the guy I slept with have a wife or a girlfriend? Seriously, who the hell did I sleep with? I know I was drunk, but shit, I was really drunk. Not that I have one night stands a lot, but I've had a few and from experience I know that I remember the guy I slept with the night before. I shake my head and use the bathroom quickly, yearning to find out who this mystery man is before I go crazy.

And I also need to tell him that I think I used one of his fancy decoration towels to dry my hands rather than the towel specifically used for hand drying.

This place is huge. Like, this is a hotel and it's still bigger than my whole childhood home. There are large pillars dividing rooms and couches in the hallways, as well as statues on tables. I walk into what seems like a living room. There's a large black L shaped couch with bright white tables. This room is very modern which is a big contrast from the other rooms I've seen. This room too has an amazing view of the London skyline, one that I could only ever dream of in my small little loft apartment. The apartment I'd so love to be in right now.

My stomach growls, so I turn around to try and find a kitchen or the man that I came here with, but a very familiar and irking voice stops me. "So you like the place?"

My blood runs cold and I squeeze my eyes shut, my body stuck in the same position I was in when he spoke. I turn around slowly and see him sitting at a desk tucked into the corner of the living room. He's leaning back against the chair with his elbow on the table as he plays with the top of a pen. His smug expression and bright eyes makes me want to slap him, especially when he raises his eyebrows with a smirk.

"Don't even tell me that I slept with you last night."

Henry frowns. "Huh, not the reaction I was going for if I'm being completely honest." I cross my arms. He stares at me for a few seconds and then smiles. "Guilty, love. Though guilty is a bad word, won't you say? It has a bad connotation to it." He stands up and tosses the pen on the desk, crossing his hands behind his back as he walks around the couch until he's standing right in front of me. I stand my ground. He lowers his voice to a whisper. The kind of whisper that sends chills down your spine. "When someone says guilty they think of someone committing a horrible crime. But baby," Henry raises his hand and caresses my jaw line, letting his thumb raise against my lips and then drag my bottom lip downwards slowly. "no crime was committed here last night. You were screaming my name for all of England to hear." He lets my lip go and grins, stalking away towards to only what I could assume to be the kitchen. I let out a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding in. "Now love, are you quite hungry yet? I've been waiting for you to wake up so that we could eat together. There's also a toothbrush in the bathroom..." His voice fades away the farther he gets, and I'm glad.