That Summer Feeling [H.S.]

10. Feel Alright

Almost everyone collapsed on the couch as soon as we got back home. Liam, Niall, Beau and Bella all ended up laying on the floor, not being able to make it to the couch a few feet away.

"I feel like I'm pregnant," Niall groans as he rubs his stomach.

"No, this is worse than being pregnant," Liam says. All of us look at him with the same face. "Damn, okay. I take it back."

I find the strength to make it up the stairs and into my temporary room. I figure that it's better to wash my face, brush my teeth and change before I get tempted to just get on the bed and fall asleep. I feel much better when I emerge from the bathroom. My t-shirt and sweats have never felt as comfortable like they do now.

I was in the middle of folding the clothes I wore to dinner to set them aside when I realized that this was the first night I would sleep in the same room as Harry. I couldn't tell if I was more nervous than scared. I've never slept in the same bed with the opposite sex. Well, with the exception of Liam, Beau and Adam during sleepovers at Gigi's place or random nap sessions after cramming for an exam.

I couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen me out of everyone to share the room with. Me. It was a question that has been rattling my brain since it happened. But I mean, he did say it was because he felt bad about accidentally hitting me with the volleyball.

I sprawl out on the bed, too tired to think anymore. I wanted to get up to turn on the TV for some white noise or be on my phone until I feel asleep but I couldn't bring myself up to do either. My hands subconsciously reach down to the bandaged part of my stomach, recalling the events leading up to where I got hurt. I found the whole thing funny now. I could only imagine how that whole game looked like to an outsider.

"I really am sorry for hurting you," I hear a soft, raspy voice speak out.

I turn my head to the sight of Harry standing by the door. I smile and slightly nod at him before turning back.

"It's actually pretty funny," I say as I remove my hands from my stomach.

"How so?" I could distinguish the confusion in his voice.

"The whole game. It was so competitive." I chuckle. "It's like we were in the Olympics."

I hear soft footsteps as I continue staring at the ceiling, feeling my body tense up a bit before relaxing.

"D'you feel better?"

I just nod in response. I look over at him. He's now standing at the foot of the bed. Hair disheveled and eyes a bit glossy.

"Do you usually apologize so much?" I ask him with a soft voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I've lost count on how many times you've said you're sorry to me."

"Oh," he says quietly.

"I don't mean it in a bad way. It's nice but all's forgiven, you don't need to apologize anymore."

"Hmm." He seems so surprised. "To be quite honest, I feel awful. You should hit me to make up for it."

"No, there's no need for that." I widen my eyes at the thought.

"I'm serious. How am I supposed to continue living my life knowing I went apeshit on you?" He says with a small smile. I chuckle, knowing he was being playful. "If it was Louis or Niall that I hit, I frankly wouldn't give a shit."

I laugh even harder, I feel like I'm going to throw up all the pasta I ate. It now hurts to laugh so I try to stop. I let out a sigh as I quiet down.