For Fair Love
five
My eyes flick open at the light. It’s daylight. I stretch my body. I’m on a fluffy bed. I brush the hair in my face back and sit up straight. I don’t remember a single thing from last night. I rub my headache away. Where am I? I slide of the bed and skid to the door. I hear faint noises on the other side. I listen to sounds of a television talking and a hushing sound similar to Grans frying something in a pan. I poke my head out and spot a head of curls. I pull back, trying to recount the events of last night. Is that Harry? How did I get here? God, I wish I knew…
After moments of scowling myself, I walk out the bedroom and towards who I think is Harry. I clear my throat and he spins around.
“Morning,” he says, waving his spoon at me, “Tea?”
I gulp, “Um, what happened? I mean to me… last night.”
I watch his brows elevate over his forehead.
“You were in a tad of trouble. I guess you drank more than your belly can hold.”
His voice, low and deep, ring in my ears.
“How’d I get here?” I ask, scratching my shoulder.
He grins, though I’m not sure of what. He turns back to his cooking.
“I had to save you. I couldn’t leave you with that jerk.”
My brows knit together.
“What?”
“That guy at the bar. He was taking advantage of you. So I saved you and brought you here. You past out,” he says. It doesn’t clarify anything for me. I try to forget about it and move on. Harry goes on, “What are you doing in Manchester, anyway?”
“What?! Manchester? I’m in Manchester?” I pause as some of my memories vaguely come back, “Oh no. I got to get home.”
“Calm down Chas. You’re hung-over. Here, have some tea.”
Hesitating, I take the cup in my hands. It’s just hard to believe I’m here right now.
“Um, thanks…”
Harry smiles and passes me to sit in a chair. I stay still, staring into my cup.
“I’ll drive you home when you’re ready,” he tells me.
I look up, “It’s fine, I’ll take the train. You don’t have to.”
“Nonsense. I’ve got a car. Why would I let you take the train?”
I gulp again and look back at the vapour escaping my cup.
I give my face a quick wash and retrieve my shoes. Harry waits for me by the doorway. We walk in silence down to the elevators. Harry presses the ground floor button, once we get in it.
“Thanks,” I say out loud.
“For what?” he asks, looking at me.
“For, you know, helping me.”
I see his grin and I look elsewhere. I follow Harry to the revolving door. There’s a swarm of people with flashing cameras and snapping pictures. I’m taken aback. The revolving doors throw me into the sea of picture takers. They’re yelling and shoving by the entrance. I don’t know where to go to avoid this. Harry suddenly takes my hand and leads me through the crowd, going straight in the middle of them. I try to remember that Harry is a celeb and therefore not really phased by this. Suffocating, I cover my eyes from the harsh flashes with my free forearm. We finally reach his car as the crowd backs off. It’s quieter once we shut the doors. I blow air out my lungs, relieved. That was crazy.
We don’t do much talking on the ride back to my home. After an hour, I begin to recognize my town. My headache’s died down. I fiddle with my fingers until Harry parks by the curb. It’s amazing that he remembers the way to my house. I see the grassy field down the road. Some little kids are playing football on it. I remember that the finals are soon underway. I secretly sulk as I know I won’t be able to play. I sigh and give Harry a smile.
“Thanks again, Harry. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
I jump out his car and breathe normal again. As soon as I reach the door, I watch his red car drive away. My mind suddenly runs on Zayn.
After moments of scowling myself, I walk out the bedroom and towards who I think is Harry. I clear my throat and he spins around.
“Morning,” he says, waving his spoon at me, “Tea?”
I gulp, “Um, what happened? I mean to me… last night.”
I watch his brows elevate over his forehead.
“You were in a tad of trouble. I guess you drank more than your belly can hold.”
His voice, low and deep, ring in my ears.
“How’d I get here?” I ask, scratching my shoulder.
He grins, though I’m not sure of what. He turns back to his cooking.
“I had to save you. I couldn’t leave you with that jerk.”
My brows knit together.
“What?”
“That guy at the bar. He was taking advantage of you. So I saved you and brought you here. You past out,” he says. It doesn’t clarify anything for me. I try to forget about it and move on. Harry goes on, “What are you doing in Manchester, anyway?”
“What?! Manchester? I’m in Manchester?” I pause as some of my memories vaguely come back, “Oh no. I got to get home.”
“Calm down Chas. You’re hung-over. Here, have some tea.”
Hesitating, I take the cup in my hands. It’s just hard to believe I’m here right now.
“Um, thanks…”
Harry smiles and passes me to sit in a chair. I stay still, staring into my cup.
“I’ll drive you home when you’re ready,” he tells me.
I look up, “It’s fine, I’ll take the train. You don’t have to.”
“Nonsense. I’ve got a car. Why would I let you take the train?”
I gulp again and look back at the vapour escaping my cup.
I give my face a quick wash and retrieve my shoes. Harry waits for me by the doorway. We walk in silence down to the elevators. Harry presses the ground floor button, once we get in it.
“Thanks,” I say out loud.
“For what?” he asks, looking at me.
“For, you know, helping me.”
I see his grin and I look elsewhere. I follow Harry to the revolving door. There’s a swarm of people with flashing cameras and snapping pictures. I’m taken aback. The revolving doors throw me into the sea of picture takers. They’re yelling and shoving by the entrance. I don’t know where to go to avoid this. Harry suddenly takes my hand and leads me through the crowd, going straight in the middle of them. I try to remember that Harry is a celeb and therefore not really phased by this. Suffocating, I cover my eyes from the harsh flashes with my free forearm. We finally reach his car as the crowd backs off. It’s quieter once we shut the doors. I blow air out my lungs, relieved. That was crazy.
We don’t do much talking on the ride back to my home. After an hour, I begin to recognize my town. My headache’s died down. I fiddle with my fingers until Harry parks by the curb. It’s amazing that he remembers the way to my house. I see the grassy field down the road. Some little kids are playing football on it. I remember that the finals are soon underway. I secretly sulk as I know I won’t be able to play. I sigh and give Harry a smile.
“Thanks again, Harry. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
I jump out his car and breathe normal again. As soon as I reach the door, I watch his red car drive away. My mind suddenly runs on Zayn.