Strangers

Chapter 74: And This Is How It Starts

A/N: This hasn't been edited so bear with me hahahaha

The sun was a harsh reality to wake up to.

I thought for a moment I was sleeping in my own bed, but that thought was quickly squashed with confusion due to the immediate smell of cigarette smoke wafting around me. I shield my eyes from the sun, sitting up in the foreign bed only to realise that I am of course at Matty's.

And my head hurts.

It's so heavy.

So so strangely heavy, because I haven't woken up hung over in forever and the feeling is now so foreign to me that I'm pretty sure it's comparable to death.

I push up onto my elbows, looking over at the person occupying the space on the bed beside me.

His back rests against the wall, his eyes temporarily close as he takes a long breath in from his cigarette, exhaling smoke out into the atmosphere around us. The sun is reflecting off the tattoo on his bare chest, bringing my attention to the detail of the heart and the words underneath. A cup of black coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he looks somewhat picturesque, like a silhouette out of an ad for something that would probably kill you.

"Babe, you look so cool." I murmur, my voice huskier than usual, sitting up properly and making a subconscious effort to move closer to him.

"You can talk...nothing but a bra and leather shorts? You fucking tease." He says, moving the cigarette between fingers.

I look down at myself...surprised to be still wearing pants if I'm honest.

I don't remember doing anything.

"Did we...?" I ask curiously.

"No, you kind of passed out...technically you fell asleep on top of me just before we were going to." He smirks, trying not to laugh.

"I don't remember drinking that much."

"There's not a whole lot of you, so I'm not surprised you couldn't handle it."

"I'm not a fan of red wine."

"But you drank it anyway."

"Alcohol is alcohol." I shrug, taking the coffee out of his hands and taking a sip. It's fucking strong, just how he likes it and I pretend that it didn't sort of wind me.

"You said some interesting things in your sleep." He grins, biting down on his lip like he's keeping a secret.

"Spill." I implore him, handing him back the coffee and taking the cigarette. My normally innocent throat hurts from last night's smoking, but the cause is the cure, right?

"You said Harry's name."

"What?" I deadpan, mortified.

"I'm joking." He chuckles, and I breathe out a deep sigh of relief. My subconscious knows very well he's off limits in dreamland.

"How is that funny?"

"Well I thought saying his name in your sleep would be equally as mortifying as saying his name during sex with someone else, and we both know you've done that before." He uses his now free hand to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me against him and I rest my head on his shoulder, holding the cigarette up to his mouth so he can take a draw.

"You're a dick." I scold him, hitting him lightly across the chest with my free hand. His hands grip around my wrist and pull my arm so I'm forced to climb onto him, bending my knees so I'm sitting down on his sighs.

"Hey I wanna ask you something." He says, leaning forward and kissing my cheek sloppily.

"Out with it." I demand, watching him put the empty coffee mug down on the floor, and taking the cigarette out from between my fingers and putting it out.