At Your Service

Chapter 8

For a moment, I forgot that I wasn't alone until the bed dipped beside me. I turned my head to see the faint outline of Harry and closed my heavy eyelids. The last thing I remember was an arm wrapping around my waist, my back pressing against a naked chest, and my bum pressing against something I could only describe as hard. And for the first night in many, I slept the whole night without the painful feeling of loneliness swarming me.

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Waking up the next morning felt...different. For one, I felt like the mattress was rising and falling repeatedly and that it was incredibly warm. Not only that, but I felt like something was wrapped around my waist and pulling me tight to whatever the source of heat was.

Another thing different about this morning was the stinging headache I was having. I could feel my brain thumping with blood and making me groan in pain. I haven't had a hangover in ages, and to be completely honest, last night was the first time I drank as much as I did.

I shut my eyes tighter before opening them, which did nothing since the room was pitch black, and attempting to get out of the strong grip. As I tried to move my body, my knee slipped and accidentally hit something I vaguely recognized as-

"Oomf!" The source of heat groaned from under me, ultimately releasing their hold from me and grasping it's balls. I scrambled out of bed to open the curtains, only to reveal a very pained looking Mr. Styles, completely naked and clutching his groin and groaning in pain.

"Mr. Styles!" I gasped as I realized I just kneed the man who signs my checks at the end of the month in the balls.

"What the fuck, Louis!" He seethed through a raspy morning voice that somehow made my heart race a little faster, "What's wrong with you?!"

"I'm sorry, sir!" I ran to his side, "I-I didn't mean to knee you!"

"God, fuck," He cursed, "Don't fucking do that again, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, sir," I looked down at the floor in embarrassment. My cheeks were burning and I just wanted to slap myself. What the hell is wrong with me?? 

"Come back to bed, you twit," He breathed out, "It's too early for this shit."

"I'm sorry," I apologize once again, "You were just gripping me too tight and I was trying to move and then...I accidentally kneed you."

"Right," He replied staring at me with an eyebrow raised as I slipped back into bed, cautious to leave a space between us, "Sorry for holding you too tight, then."

"S'okay," I mumbled as I cuddled into the bedsheets. Harry turned his body (which he thankfully covered with the bedsheets) to me and let out a sigh.

"Did you have fun last night?" He asked, talking about the most boring event I've been to.

"Do you want the truth or a lie?" I questioned. 

"Boring, then," He replied for me, which made me let out an embarrassed smile, "Those things are the worst, honestly."

He closed his eyes as if he was about to fall asleep and I had a question burning in my throat and I figured now was the best time to ask him.

"Why did you chose me?" I asked, "To come along with you."

"Do you want the truth or a lie?" He smirked, still with his eyes closed. I rolled my eyes and let out a stifled laugh.

"A lie," I answered, curious to know what he'd say. He slowly peeked his dazy green eyes open and smirked ever so slightly.