summit ✽ h.s

s i x t y - t h r e e

all the feels for this chapter. all of them.
comment as you read, it actually helps me update faster. xo

—

july 15th, 6:01 am
Inglewood, California
emma

I wake up to the sound of Harry retching.

Beautiful.

I rub my tired eyes and slowly get out of bed before walking over to the hotel bathroom to see him kneeled down on the ground, hunched over the toilet.

"Aw, baby." I pout, walking closer to him and sitting on the ground. "Someone have a little too much to drink last night?"

"A little." He croaks, hanging his head. I rub his naked back and he sighs.

"Still feel sick?" I ask softly, running my hand up and down his back trying to soothe him.

He responds with another retch, and my ears with the sound of vomit meeting the toilet water. Music to my ears, truly.

"Let me get you some water." I say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as I get up from my spot on the tile floor. I walk over to the dresser under the TV, grab one of the glass cups they left in front of the mini fridge, and bring it back to the sink to fill with water.

Harry moans, squeezing his eyes shut and running a hand through his hair. It's not a good moan.

"Drink some." I say quietly, handing him the glass. He leans back against the wall and takes a sip of water, and looks at me with a miserable look. I've never seen him this badly hungover before, is it bad if I say he's kind of cute right now?

"If I start puking again will you scratch my back?" He says quietly, sipping his water slowly.

"Scratch your back?" I raise a brow. "Sure." I smile softly.

"My mum uses to do it when I had flus and stuff." He says, placing the glass down on the ground. He leans back over the toilet, and lets some more out.

I scratch his back like he asked, and he stays still hovered over the toilet seat after he finishes his spew so I can keep scratching.

"Your hairs getting long." I say, taking my hands off his back and grabbing the scrunchie off my wrist. I pull together his hair and loop the scrunchie around it twice. Some hair falls out and he gets a cute little rat tail, but most of it stays in.

I let out a small laugh, and he sends me a glare.

"You look cute." I say.

"Scratch, please." He says in response, and I go back to my previous activity. "I hate this. I'm never drinking again."

"Mhm." I continue to scratch up and down lightly.

"I don't even remember drinking that much." He groans. I wonder if he remembers all he told me last night.

"I've never seen you this hungover."

"I've never seen myself this hungover." He leans back against the bathroom tile wall. "It's usually you in my place. I never puke."

"Shut up." I smile, knowing he's right. I'm always horribly hungover.

"I think I'm all puked out." He sighs.

"Do you feel better?"

"My stomach does. Head, not so much." He squeezes his eyes shut. "It's pounding."

I scooch over closer to him. "My poor baby." I place my hand on his neck, pulling him close to press a kiss on his forehead. "Mm. You smell bad."

"Wonder why." He chuckles lightly.