All of Me (Harry Styles) - Book 2

Chapter 85: A Phone Call.... THE Phone Call

-Harry's POV-

"Bloody hell!!"

I curse, my hands digging through the layers of blankets as I search for my phone.

It's rang three times now. It was easily ignored the first. The second was annoying, the third properly pissing me off. I glance at the clock, cursing again. Been asleep less then an hour.

My fingers fumble with it as I bring it up to my ear.

"What?!"

"Calm down mate!" Niall laughs, only fueling my irritation.

"Just fell asleep Niall. Literally.. Just."

"You're a grumpy person when Ava isn't around."

"No shite! Now out with it, why'd you wake me?"

"Louie's drunk off his arse. Singing down in the hotel bar, not good might I add. You know you're the only one who can get him to set down his pint without knuckles flying."

"Mate, I'm knackered."

"You and me both Haz! Just put him to bed. Ya know he'll be in a wretched mood tomorrow if you don't. Last thing we need is him getting into a another scrap with a pap."

"Yeah, Alright... Yeah." I sit up, rubbing my eyes, "But you lot owe me. You and the rest of the lads."

"That we do mate! Cheers!"

I hang up without saying goodbye, groaning as I throw my legs over the side of my bed. A pair of dark sweat pants are swiftly tugged up my legs, my hair pulled back into a bun before I grab my room key and head downstairs.

I can hear his singing the second the lift doors open. Niall was spot on, it's wretched. Slurred words and hiccups adding to it all.

I find him alone, hunched over the bar as he throws peanuts at the Telly hanging over the selection of whiskeys.

I mouth sorry to the annoyed bartender as I near him. Drunk Louie is a proper pain to be around.

"Harrah! Join me m-my good man! There's dr-drinks to be had!" Louie lazily grins at me as I step up next to him.

"I've been sent for you."

"Niall?" Louie raises an eyebrow at me.

I nod as I push his drink out of arms reach.

"Traitor is what he is! Drank twice as much as me, yet I'm the one being scolded."

"He's Irish mate, born to hold his own. Let's get you to your room yeah? Let this poor lad get home." I motion towards the bartender.

"Rubbish! He w-wants to stay! Have a drink with me Tom!"

"Dean." The bartender corrects him

"Yes! Darren! A Pint for yourself and my mate here please."

I chuckle, "The names Dean, Louie."

"Dean? Your names Harry, Harry!!"

"Alright, you've had enough mate." I pry the bowl of peanuts out of his hand, "Time for bed."

I'm full on laughing by the time I get Louie into his bed. He's a proper four year old when he's pickled. Throwing fits, refusing to brush his teeth or take his shoes off before he gets under the covers. His mouth rambles on endlessly, professing his love for not only El but John Travolta and a warm spring day as well. None of it made a lick of sense, but all of it was laughable.

I set his alarm on his phone and leave him be, making my way back to my own room.

I've barely slipped back into my own bed when my phone rings again. I groan as I start another search for it in amongst the blankets.