resurrect | h.s

part forty six

Harry Styles

Dizzy and disoriented, my eyes slowly blink open.

A lightbulb hangs from the ceiling. Where am I?

I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. It looks like a garage but I'm not sure.

My eyes travel until I see a hand being held in my own. Blonde hair was sprawled across the edge of the couch I was laid on.

There she was. She had fallen asleep on the ground, not wanting to leave me.

Last night was blurry, but I remember now why I'm in this position.

Drugs.

I felt like shit. My head hurt and my throat burned. My tongue was dry, my eyes were swollen and it hurt to blink.

Lydia was sound asleep in this uncomfortable position. I sat up and stretched my pained limbs, then stood up and scooped Lydia's body up. I hook my arm under her knees and keep my other arm under her neck to support her head, then I lay her on the couch.

She didn't even stir. She must have been so tired.

It wasn't very warm in here. I look around, trying to find something to cover her with. I look in an old deck box and find a thick quilt.

I bring the folded material over to her and unfold it, laying it across her sleeping body and leaving her head poking out.

I kneel in front of her, brushing the hair out of her face and kissing her forehead. I felt awful for what I did to her.

I remember she had told me that her parents would be leaving for something early in the morning, so that means they aren't in the house right now.

I leave the garage, and head into the house through the back door using the extra key located in Jane's flowerpots.

I immediately head for a bathroom, feeling sick to my stomach after the cool morning air hit my face.

I rush to the toilet on the first floor, opening the lid and emptying my stomach into it.

The mistakes of last night left my mouth in the most vile way possible. I spit, wiping my mouth and taking deep breaths.

"Fuck." I mutter.

The inside of my mouth tasted disgusting. I knew Lydia had an extra toothbrush for me if I ever stayed the night.

I open the medicine cabinet, seeing the red toothbrush waiting for me. I grab it, wetting it and piling toothpaste on.

I immediately bring it to my mouth, brushing every single part. I needed the taste out of my mouth. I brush my tongue, all over, making sure not to miss a spot where I could possibly still taste any alcohol or even vomit.

I was a mess. My eyes were red, bags underneath them. My hair was all over the place.

I looked like I was 23 years old again, high out of my mind and not giving a fuck about what happened to me.

Truth is, I didn't care about myself...but I sure as hell cared about my fiancé and our soon to be daughter.

I know I need to be better. For her, for my gang, for myself. I cant be high when my baby is born. I cant do that to her.

I wish I never went out. Being in that type of environment without Lydia to talk me down isn't good for me.

I knew Louis and Niall were fucking pissed at me, too. They're the ones who had to carry me out of my own club after I had passed out.