Only Angel [h.s]

𝟬𝟯 - 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗲

Deep inside the ever-spinning, tell me does it feel?
It's no good unless it's real, hillsides burning
Wild-eyed turning 'til we're running from it
I'd take care of you if you'd ask me to
In a year or two

[Take Care
Beach House]

—————

I just gawk at harry as he walks over to the Queen sized bed that we have in our spare bedroom. We made this into a guest bedroom instead of a study because usually when Zayn and Gigi used to come visit more often i would sleep on the couch and they would stay in my bedroom and as much as i love our couch, it gave me the worst ache in my lower back.

We actually do have a desk and a pretty big bookshelf in here so if i can't concentrate in my own room i come in here, stick in my headphones and get to work. Something about this room just gave me an odd sense of calmness, i always thought it was just the fact that everything in this room seemed so clean and crisp, the white egyptian cotten sheets, the deep brown mahogany desk, the sheer curtains covering the window that looks out upon the city, even the smell of vanilla that always lingers in the room just manages to ease my anxiety and put my mind to rest.

But now that i have a drunk, overly affectionate harry who's spewing drunk words out to me, my anxiety seems to sky rocket and not even the familiar room and smell of fresh vanilla can ease my newfound anxiety.

Just when i think harrys going to climb into the bed, i turn around to walk abruptly out of the room but i'm suddenly halted when the sounds of heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor ring in my ears.

I inwardly groan at the fact he won't just make this easier for himself because frankly if he stays up any longer i'm scared that he'll pass out and end up with a worse hangover and headache in the morning, and as much as i love them i cannot deal with three hungover dumbasses tomorrow, two? Maybe, i'm used to looking after Liv and Elle when their hungover but adding Harry into the mix? I'm not too fond of the idea.

without turning around to face him, because i know my resolve will waiver, i manage to keep my voice soft but assertive to tell him that i'm not fucking around. "Harry please just get back into bed and sleep off your hangover, it's 3am and i really just wanna go to sleep"

He walks past me, turns around to face me, and leans his tall, muscular figure on the door frame and makes eye contact, while usually i would shrink under his intimidating gaze i manage to keep a poker face because honestly, i'm not sober enough for this shit.

"I'll go back to bed soon, just wanna brush my teeth, my breath stinks of tequila and whiskey" He says with a grimace, he continues to hold our eye contact while continuing on with what he was saying "can you come to the bathroom with me buttercup? don't wanna end up falling and cracking my head open" he says with a breathy chuckle, he goes to walk out of the room but when he senses in not following him he turns back around and nearly falls flat on his face.