Common Knowledge

Chapter 39

What an astonishing week of Harry photos we've had!!

Let us journey into the past, back to his 2017 tour and see how are things between him and Bliss at once.

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Thirty-Nine

It was the day after, the day after, I had sex with Harry. And today, here I was waking up alone in his hotel room, where was he? What now? Should I play with myself?

Okay, wait! Scratch everything I've said so far. It's confusing as hell. And I have pledged to put forth an exact account of my adventures with Harry.

It's just that I woke up very poorly, feeling miserable. My entire body was in pain, I was shivery, covered in cold sweat and nauseous. My mind wasn't working properly, it just wanted to go back to sleep.

I knew Harry wasn't there, because propped in the night table, against a cold cuppa, was a note from him, handwritten in hotel stationery.

"Baby, I've got to be in the venue at 4:00 p.m. I didn't wake you because you're still sick. You need to rest. Take the day off, I'll be onstage at 8:00 pm. and then I'm supposed to go party with Louis and Niall, but I'll blow them off and come back to check on you.

Drink plenty of water and there's more Solpadine by the night table. If you are not well when I get back, I'm calling a doctor.

Love, H xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

I folded Harry's note and following his suggestion took the tablets, chasing them down with the cold tea. It was hard because my throat was extremely sore. I made my way to the loo for a quick wee, and that also was hard because I felt woozy. I certainly had come down with the flu. My head and nose were stuffy. My body ached all over. I felt feverish.

I decided to go back to bed and wait until the medicine worked and calmed down my symptoms. And laying there in that hotel room, in Harry's bed is when the lyrics of "From the Dining Table" started swirling around on my head. I had a new found appreciation for that song; the "played with myself" part was beginning to make a lot of sense. The sheets I lay in smelled of Harry, memories of his worried little face when he tucked me in last night overwhelmed me. I was already dizzy from the events of the past couple of days, the illness, and Harry I might as well give the lyrics a go. I slid my hand under my tee, reaching for my boobs and giving them a squeeze as Harry would. Holding my right nipple, I glided my free hand towards my panties, and positioned my index and middle finger in V, over my slit. I began moving my hand up and down, slowly at first, rapidly increasing the friction. "Shall I slip one or two fingers inside?" my libido wondered, but I was prevented from exploring further by my mobile ringing very loudly. Surely Harry was calling to check up on me.

This was an awkward situation. Here I was in Harry's hotel room, on his bed, pleasuring myself whilst thinking about him. In my defense, I could say I was not in my right mind, due to illness. I was fooling no one, though. In my usual state of mind, I also had naughty thoughts about Harry. The only redeeming factor was that I was completely alone at the moment, so he wouldn't find out. I just needed to act cool, as if I was not bothered about anything.

"Hello," I answered in my best I'm-not-bothered voice, that still sounded as I was out of breath.

"Hey, girl. I'm stood outside." A voice that did not belong to Harry, replied. A female voice. "Bossman asked me to find out how you are feeling today."

The owner of the voice had not identified herself. For a minute there I thought it might be Camille, who had decided to come over and gloat about her new girlfriend status. But rest easy because the person calling could only be Lou Teasdale, since she was the only one referred to Harry Bossman.