Bringing Up Baby! [h.s.]

buzzing beginnings

January 3rd 2022

Marzipan Jones has had a lot of memorable mornings.

On her twenty fourth birthday, she woke up face first in a random bathtub that she had later discovered was inside a hotel room she had not rented nor owned the key to. There was also the time she drunkenly slept with her very young, and very hot dentist Dr. Millner after bumping into him at one of her usual pubs. She had woken up with a powerful taste of whiskey in her mouth and Dr. Milllner gave her a shoulder pat and told her she should floss more as he subtly (but not really that subtly) kicked her out of his townhouse.

These were friendly fumbles, ones that she would laugh about with her friends later on and only mildly regret in old age. Marzipan was good at brushing things off. With a hike of her skirt and a skip of her fashionable knee-length boots all problems could be forgotten.

Although, on that fateful January morning, the third to be exact, no amount of hiking or skipping or forgetting would be able to fix the mess Marzipan had created.

She had woken up with an arm around her, which wasn't ever really a concern, but it was through bleary eyelids that Marzipan glanced over to see if the guy she had undoubtedly slept with was hot, she noticed who the arm had been attached to. All sleep was lost as she scrambled out from beneath the blankets and stumbled back against the side table in horror.

"No," she muttered, tugging at her roots in utter devastation, "no no no... this can not be happening."

The figure groaned at the noise and burrowed deeper under the covers, "Close the fuckin' blinds would ya? It's too bright in here."

The sound of their voice confirmed to Marzipan that she hadn't been dreaming. She stuttered out a breath, trying to regain any semblance of composure before she dropped the news on the second party. She had done a lot of very stupid things in her life; i.e the time she stole alcohol from her parents for a school dance or when she smacked Lottie Gardner across the face at Uni for calling her chicken legs. Yet, nothing could match the utter thoughtlessness of her most recent conquest.

Marzipan had actually slept with her neighbor.

"Wake up!" She hissed, violently throwing a pillow at the sleeping lump's head, "and is that really how you speak to the girls you sleep with? Because if it is we're going to have a serious talk about respecting-"

"What the fuck are you doing here Marzipan?"

A very pretty and very familiar face popped up from beneath the covers looking absolutely scandalized. A feeling that was mutually felt between the pair, because as far as anyone knew Marzipan Jones and Harry Styles were not friends. In fact, the disdain she felt for him had started the second he had moved into the flat next to hers almost a year ago, with a flurry of overfilled boxes and loud music that had left her and her roommate up until the late hours of the night.

She ignored his stupid question and continued to pace around the room, sheets glued to her body like a second skin, and the roots of her hair once again being abused by her fingertips, "It was the stupid building New Years party! Martin down in 3B likes to spike the punch, he says it makes things more interesting."

Harry scoffed, "Well he's done a good fucking job of it 'asn't he?"

"Do you think I wanted this to happen?" Marzipan stopped her pacing to send him a glare, "Do you think I would ever willingly sleep with you if I wasn't fuckin' plastered? Huh?"

"I'm sure you enjoyed yourself." He smirked, finally deciding to sit up and search for his clothing.

This simultaneously allowed Marzipan a look at what had momentarily been hers just the night before. He was more solid and toned than she had originally assumed under his usual slightly oversized clothing. The surprise of beautiful sketches that belonged to more than just his arms was what really sent her stomach into knots. She imagined how warm his skin felt and how gentle his fingers must've been; she even thinks she can remember what his lips could do--