Collectively Unconsciously Composed

My hands fingered the sheets, feeling around for my boyfriend. I picked my head up from my pillow and glanced around; the room was dark and empty, the only source of light coming from a space under the door where the floor just didn't touch. I groaned and rubbed my eyes, attempting to wake myself up. The bright digits of 6:30 AM flashed across my clock. I was curious as to where Harry was and also as to why the bathroom door was closed.

The events of last night suddenly flooded back; the hooded figure, Harry's drunken state. I prepared for the worst as I slipped out of bed and padded over to the loveseat by the window, picking up a forgotten jumper of Harry's. I tugged it on over my head as I tiptoed over to the bathroom. I stood for a moment, pressing my ear to the door as if to hear a conversation. I was greeted instead by a retching sound as I snapped my head away.

I pushed the door open, a sigh escaping my lips as I glimpsed at the curly haired boy who had his head down the toilet. He was still wearing his clothes from last night, but his shirt was wrinkled and looked damp with sweat. I walked over to him and sat, placing my hand on his back. He jumped slightly, not expecting me to be there. He relaxed under my touch as I rubbed small circles on his back. He lifted his head up from the bowl, his curls sticking to his sweaty head and his face looking ashen. He gave me a small smile before quickly turning to retch again.

I whispered words of comfort as he continued to retch, the muscles in his back twisting and contorting under my touch. Once he was finished, he slumped down, his cheek resting against the cool tile of the bathroom. He let out a moan as he closed his eyes and clutched his stomach.

"God I feel like shit," he mumbled against the floor.

"Well, you should feel like shit. You were absolutely pissed last night," I exclaimed, scooting over to sit next to him.

He picked his head up from the floor and narrowed his eyes at me. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly, a greenish tinge spreading to his cheeks. He shut his eyes, probably riding out another wave of nausea. I was still curious as to what happened last night, but I knew Harry probably didn’t know anymore than me right now.

I placed my hand on his forehead, pushing his sweaty curls from his face. He lifted his head slightly, clearly enjoying my touch as I continued to run my hand through his hair. All of a sudden he shot up, scrambling over to the toilet before retching again. He continued to choke and sputter, his body heaving. I crawled over to him and helped to push his hair from his face, whispering words of comfort. Once he was finished, he sat back into me, his head lolling on my shoulder.

“It’ll get better,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his forehead.

“Scout,” he mumbled, cuddling further into me. I noticed he was shivering, his teeth chattering as I held him.

“Come on love,” I said quietly as I helped him stand.

I grabbed his hand and tugged him back to the bedroom. I sat him down on the bed and motioned for him to stay. I raced down the stairs and to the kitchen, scrambling to make a cup of tea and some toast. I pushed the some bread into the toaster and went to go retrieve a mug from the cupboard. I blew some fringe out of my face as I hummed quietly and fixed Harry’s tea.

“Scout!” Harry called, a hint of distress in his voice.

“Coming!” I called back, scrambling to collect everything.

I grabbed the two pieces of toast out of the toaster, Harry’s mug of tea, and the two painkillers. I prayed I wouldn’t drop anything as I hurried up the stairs. I pushed the bedroom door open with my foot, squealing when the tea spilled over the rim of the mug and onto my hand. Harry picked his head up from the bed, checking to see what the source of my squealing was. I licked the spilt tea of my hands and set the mug and toast down on the bedside table next to Harry.

“I brought you some tea and toast,” I said quietly, handing the mug to Harry and the two painkillers. He swallowed the pills quickly, shuddering after he took a sip of tea.

“Come here,” he said, patting the bed next to him.

“Harry you’re freezing. Let me get you something,” I said, ignoring his comment and walking over to retrieve a jumper from the dresser. I picked up a navy Rolling Stones jumper and tossed it to Harry. He slipped it on quickly and looked back at me.

I rolled my eyes and climbed back into bed with him, enjoying the feeling of his arms around me. I cuddled into his chest and pressed my lips to his collarbone. He tangled our legs together and scooted closer to me, his fingers grazing over the skin between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my pajama bottoms. I laid my head on his chest, the sound of his heart a lullaby. I felt him press his lips to the top of my head, his fingers continuing to trace patterns on my skin.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked quietly, humming in delight as Harry continued to touch me.

“Better now that you’re here,” he said with a smile. I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him.

“You’re an idiot,” I mumbled into his chest as he vibrated with laughter.

“After last night, I feel like the world’s biggest fucking idiot.”

“What happened?” I piqued, my curiosity peaking.

“I have no fucking idea,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

“Well, we’ll worry about that later. Right now you need to sweat out this hangover,” I said with a giggle.

“Harry Styles does not get hungover,” he mumbled, a hint of pink spreading over his face. I was glad that the greenish tinge of his skin was gone.

“Apparently he does and he needs to eat and drink or else his hangover will suck even more,” I said. I squirmed out of his grasp and crawled over him, grabbing a piece of toast and shoving it in his mouth. “Eat,” I said, stealing the other piece of toast and taking a bite.

“Yes mum,” he said, his mouth full of toast. I lightly slapped his arm, scolding him for talking with his mouth full. He could be such a guy sometimes. “Oh, speaking of mum,” he said after swallowing, “I promised we would come and see her.”

“Hmmm, did you now?” I asked with a smile.

“Um actually, I promised her we would go have dinner at the house,” he said, trailing off at the end.

“When?” I asked, reaching over Harry again to steal a sip of tea. He mumbled something under his breath as I set the mug back down. “Harry,” I said firmly.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” I yelped, his answer taking me by surprise.

“Yes tomorrow. What’s wrong with tomorrow?” he asked.

“That’s so soon!” I said, my voice rising. I jumped out of bed and began to pace, something I did when I was nervous. “Shit it’s probably too late to go and get her a gift. What am I going to wear?”

“Scout,” Harry whined as I looked up at him. “My head hurts. Stop yelling please.”

“Sorry,” I said quietly, a blush rising to my cheeks. I crawled back into bed and pressed my lips to Harry’s. “Give me a heads up next time, yeah?”

“Course,” he said, reconnecting our lips once again.

“I mean it Styles,” I said, swerving out of the way.

“Okay Scout,” he chuckled, pecking the tip of my nose and then my lips.

“Well someone’s feeling better,” I mumbled against his lips.

“Must’ve been the tea,” he chuckled. I kissed the corners of his mouth quickly and rested my head on his chest once again.

“Must’ve been,” I agreed quietly.

******

Harry’s hangover eventually cured itself, probably from my special cure of kisses and cuddling. We lounged around for most of the day, Harry only getting sick once more. We were currently watching a random film on TV, my sitting in Harry’s lap as he played with my hair. I hadn’t been out of the house all day and needed to do something.

“Let’s go for a walk,” I said suddenly, shooting up from Harry’s lap and walking over to the door.

“Dressed like that?” he said, his eyes trailing up and down my body. I blushed and looked down, inspecting my outfit. I was wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and an old dance t-shirt that came to rest a few inches above the top of my pants.

“What? You don’t like this?” I teased, tugging at my shirt.

“I do like it,” he argued as I laughed.

I decided that being sick all day was miserable, so this would probably sure Harry’s hangover once and for all. I bit my lip and fiddled with the waistband on my pants. I folded them down, slowly pulling the fabric down my legs to reveal my purple lacey underwear. I heard Harry breath in sharply, as I bent down to grab my pants. I giggled and tossed them at Harry, who caught them without batting an eye.

Taking slow, small steps, I made my way over to him. I stood, letting his eyes take in my appearance before straddling his waist. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and bent down so my lips just grazed his ear.

“Do you like it now?” I whispered. I felt Harry shiver with delight as I tugged on his ear lobe with my teeth.

In one sweeping motion, I was under Harry, his movements hungry. He pressed his lips to mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth, deepening the kiss. I tangled my fingers in his hair, scraping my nails against his scalp. His hands moved to my shirt, his lips never leaving mine except for when he slipped the fabric over my head. He connected our lips again as I moaned in delight.

I untangled my fingers from his curls and pulled away, pecking the corner of his mouth before slinking over to the closet. I heard him swear under his breath as I bit my lip and giggled. I tugged out a pair of light wash jeans and one of my various floral crop tops. I was pulling my shirt over my head when I felt an arm wrap around my waist.

“Scout,” Harry warned, his tongue swiping his swollen lips. I gave him an innocent look, enjoying teasing him. “You’re going to pay for that,” he said throatily, leaning down so his lips were on my ear. He gave my waist a squeeze before releasing me and returning to the bed.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Harry left me breathless, and I was honestly surprised I was able to break away from him before. It was usually me caving in as soon as Harry kissed me, but I wanted him to know how it felt, to be left breathless.

******

Walking around London was probably one of the most relaxing things ever. The sun was just starting to set, casting a faint orange glow and the promise of a wonderful night. A warm breeze ruffled my hair, my blond waves dancing in the wind. The smell of car exhaust and cigarette smoke hung in the air, along with the smell of spearmint. I stole a glance of Harry from the corner of my eye, his tall frame casting an odd shadow on the pavement.

It was moments like this that I lived for; walking hand in hand with the one you love, just enjoying life. I had grown up looking forward to a moment like this, picturing every detail. I felt like a completely different person since the first day I accompanied One Direction on tour. I never fully realized how much I had changed until this moment, my epiphany finally hitting home.

Harry squeezed my hand, offering me a small smile as we walked down the busy London street. I squeezed back, not being able to form any words. I knew the gesture was simple, but it let Harry know that I was happy. I knew he was happy too; he just had different ways of showing it. So we walked, walked until it was dark, walked until our feet hurt, walked until we were lost.