Drifter | (Harry Styles AU) • COMPLETE

Chapter 5.

Harry's POV

I wake up to the sound of pounding on my door.

Who the hell could that be?

I roll over pulling a pillow over my head deciding sleep is more important. Whoever is at the door can fuck off.

"Harry,' the pounding continues," I don't care how hungover you are i need you dressed and downstairs for breakfast in 10 minutes. Thats an order." Pounding one last time before leaving my door. Its my father.

Everything out of that man's mouth is an order. Orders I'm never stupid enough to disobey.

I grab the pillow and toss it across the room blindly, hitting a lamp. Great. Something else for me to pay for.

I could have sworn i just went to bed an hour ago how is it already morning? I sit up slowly stretching my arms, glancing down at the small clock on the mahogany nightstand.

7:42AM

I slept like 3 hours of course I feel like shit. I knew shouldn't have stayed up so late writing. I just couldn't help it. I came back into the room feeling something I haven't felt in awhile - excitement, the words just flowed out of me and onto the paper.

Everything about yesterday afternoon/last night was completely different then what I'm use to expecting on these business trips.

I check in, I have a boring dinner with one of my father's business partners, I attend boring meetings, more boring dinners, early mornings, random whores, and some writing on my free time.

That's it.

Every. Single. Time.

Except this time.

I shuffle into the bathroom with one eye open letting out a loud yawn, while lifting up the toilet seat making the daily struggle of pissing with morning wood.

I wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face hoping it'll wake me up. Using the small towel on the rack i pat my face dry staring at myself in the mirror. I have huge dark circles under my green eyes as proof of how fucking tired I am and feel.

I walk towards the small closet and pull out one of the 12 silk black dress shirts I brought on this trip.

As I'm tying my Italian leather shoes I hear my phone buzz from the inside of my black jeans that I carelessly left on the floor last night. I walk over pulling my phone out and tossing the sand covered jeans on an empty chair near the wall.

1 NEW MESSAGE(S)

Monique Wallshire 💀

No thanks I think to myself not even bothering to read the message, shoving my phone into my slim black chino dress pants.

20 minutes later I'm finally out the door making my way to the resorts complimentary breakfast buffet.

I scan the booths looking for the back of my fathers bald head. Ah there he is.

I quickly straighten out my navy blue tie taking slow steps towards my fathers table weaving through the rush of starving people in their pajamas.

Eating breakfast in pajamas, that sounds amazing.

"Harry it's nice to see you, you're looking as sharp as ever," an overly excited man tells me with a huge grin showing his bleached white teeth as he stands up to greet me with a handshake while my father stays seated typing away on his phone.

I feel the love pops.

"Good morning. And thanks. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name," I say with a fake ass smile plastered on my face as I firmly shake his hand like my father taught me.