Fate (h.s.au)

X

My eyes slowly blink open, the light in the room seeping in through the curtains. The makeup from last night still rests on my eyes and it feels heavy. A blanket covers my body, one I don't remember falling asleep with.

I turn my head to look around the room, recognizing it as Harry's. I recall majority of last night, but I hate that I didn't shut up. I just kept talking and I probably shouldn't have said a few things. 'I don't fuck virgins'; the words I had spoken still rings through my ears.

The shirt I had worn to the bar is still on my torso and everything else is the same as well. I sit up and grab my head, not wanting the pounding currently residing in it.

"Lina," I hear Harry, his voice quiet.

"Harry," I reciprocate, not looking at him. I keep my head buried in my hands, my hair falling around me as I do so.

"There's aspirin and water on the counter," he tells me, my fingers pressing to my temples. I manage to lift my head and look at him, his shirtless body coming into view.

"Put on a damn shirt, would you?" I groan, falling back on the couch. I hear him laugh and I just close my eyes, resting my forearm over them.

"My house, my rules, baby," he says, my head shaking. I'm sick of him calling me baby.

"I have a shirt there if you need it. You smell like smoke and alcohol," he tells me, my eyes slightly opening to see the black tee sitting on the table. I grab it and I get up, moving into the bathroom. I change out of the shirt I'm in, realizing how bad it does smell.

"Fuck," I groan, hoping he didn't pay too much attention to it. Not that it matters much; it's my own pride I'm concerned with.

The short-sleeved shirt shows off my arms, something I don't do often. I pull my hair back into a bun, tuck the long shirt in to make it more appealing on my body, and walk out of the bathroom, Harry turning to look at me. A smirk covers his lips and he leans against the counter, chewing whatever it is he's eating with an amused expression.

I know exactly what he's going to say. "Don't fucking say it," I point at him, and he snorts.

Harry doesn't say anything until he leans on the counter, looking directly into my eyes.

"You look hot in my shirt," he smirks, and I wish I could slap him across his face.

"Fuck you," I groan, making him laugh. He leans over the counter and I look at him, his eyes not looking away from me.

"How old are you, Lina?" he asks, my body moving to take a seat at the table.

"Are we playing 20 questions?" I wonder, not in the mood for a childish game.

"I only asked you one fucking question," he retorts, handing me a glass of water. I take the aspirin and then he asks if I want something to eat.

"Piece of toast is fine," I reply, his head nodding. "I'm 23, to answer your other question."

"See how easy that was," he teases, his eyes meeting mine as he looks over his shoulder. It's just as easy to give him the middle finger.

Harry sets the toast in front of me and takes a seat beside me, my hand lifting the bread to my lips.

"Thank you," I tell him, his dimples appearing as he smiles at me.

"Lina, you realize you don't have to hate me," he tells me, and I look over at him. My eyebrows furrow at his statement.

"I never said I hate you. I hate fate," I clarify, my lips pressing together in a line. "And because I hate fate, I hate the world."

"Nihilistic?" he asks, running his hand through his hair. He leans back and grabs his cigarettes from the counter.