Ruby ღ

I'm not a bitch,
I'm not a slut,
I'm not a whore,
And I sure as hell ain't yours.
So go ahead and do yourself a favour:
Don't believe the rumours you hear about me.

Survival 101 - You're as good as dead if you try to get into my pants.

(Sequel to 'Red ♥')
Many thanks to: J.K Pansear (Kammy), kelsea (Briella), Musical Megster (Megan) - Love you all guys, thank you ♥ xoxo ~Patch

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4. Hungover? I think not!

The bartender had his work cut out for him. I was downing shots like my life depended on it and dancing along the bar, kicking down peoples shot glasses with my heels.

"Nice legs." I looked down at Harry sitting on a stool and felt the urge to kick him under his chin, but didn't for some reason.

"Keep your hands to yourself, jackass." I murmured, jumping off the side.

Harry raised his glass to me and leaned forward. At first, I honestly thought he was going to kiss me, but then I stumbled forward and he hooked me round the waist to stop me from falling onto my ass.

"I'm alright!" I snapped, taking a few shaky steps forward. My heels didn't like me tonight.

"No, you're pissed." He said, his face concerned.

"No shit, Sherlock!" I shook my finger at him and began to tut.

"You're very, very dumb, Harry Styles." I slurred, hiccuping a little. I heard a scream from over at the far end, and then a slutty blond emerged from the crowd and leapt onto Harry. I burst out into hysterics. I honestly couldn't stop laughing, clutching my sides to keep them from splitting. It was just so funny watching Harry get tackled by a girl!

"You wouldn't be laughing if it was you they were leaping on."

"Actually, I probably would!" I giggled, bending over to stop the ache in my left ribcage.

"Whatever." Harry dissappeared into the crowd before I could humiliate him further.

"ANY SONG REQUESTS?!" The loud voice boomed from the speakers on stage and I spotted a black-haired guy with a microphone to his lips.

I guess it wouldn't do any harm, would it?

I pushed my way through the crowd with elbows of steel and hopped up until I was behind the high black curtain. It was more like a bloody concert than a club!

"Hey, I'm Taliah." I whispered, resting my hand on the back of the guys neck. He relaxed underneath me and I pressed my lips to his ear.

"I'm Pheonix." he grinned charmingly.

"Now," I said, my voice no higher than a whisper. "you're going to let perform on stage, because I'm hammered. And then you're going to drive me home after. Alright?"

I took a step back and he blinked a couple of times.

"Up you go, Taliah."

I grinned, but knew my hangover would be much worse considering what I'd just done. Ah well.

"Hell-o, London!" I yelled into the microphone, which brought a fairly loud drunken cheer from the crowd. I grinned when I saw Harry in the front row, clapping slowly and sarcastically. Oh how I enjoyed pissing him off.

"And let's have a warm welcome to curly over there: HARRY STYLES!" I screamed his name and instantly, a douzen teenage girls launched themselves at him. I nearly doubled over laughing.

"Whooo! Any song requests out there in the crowd?!"

Song titles were launched at me, but every one of them didn't really seem appealing.

"Alright, alright!" I said, trying to calm them down. "I'm gonna sing something that you might not've heard before! It's called 'Walk Of Shame' and if you're crazy. . . THEN YOU'LL FUCKING ENJOY IT!!!"

The crown roared and I flew into the song, enjoying the way the lyrics sounded in my husky drunk voice. Harry watched me shake my body on the stage and nodded approvingly. When I sang the chorus, I spotted him grinning, and then a wink.

"Make the elevator,

Run a little faster,

I'm pushin' all the buttons,

But nothin's happening!

I promise,

No more walks of shame!"

By the time I was on to the second verse, people were singing along with me. The entire crowd, even people in the booths, had begun belting out the lyrics.

"THANK YOU PEOPLE OF LONDON!" I jumped into the crowd and all different types of hands carried me to the back where Harry was standing, his arms folded dominantly across his chest.

"That was incredibly stupid." He muttered, pulled my jacket out of nowhere and slung it round my shoulders.

"Do I look like I give a shi-" Bile rose in my throat and I sped through the club until I found the ladies toilets, bursting into a cubicle and dropping to my knees.

I felt two hot hands hold back my shoulder-length hair and whisper sweet nothings into my ear while I vomited in the toilet.

"Shhh, it's going to be okay. You're just a little drunk, that's all."

I turned around, vomit dripping down my chin and glared at Harry. He laughed and wiped it up with some toiletpaper.

"Even when you're wasted, you still manage to be bitchy to me. What did I do wrong?" He pouted like a five-year old and I felt like throwing up on him.

So I did.

 

 

I woke up, half concious of what I was doing. When I turned around, I saw Harry, asleep, on a rocking chair in the corner of my bedroom. My brother was either out on the piss or sleeping.

Oh shit. What the fuck happened last night? I peeled back the covers and jumped out the bed.

"Ouch!" I rubbed the back of my foot and found a couple of blisters there. Stupid heels!

I looked into my body length mirror and found I was wearing last nights dress - Harry could've at least told me to get changed!

"Stupid prick." I muttered, pulling off my dress. The hangover was already starting to get to me.

I grabbed some shorts and a vest top and slung them on before getting back into bed.

But I froze.

On my ankle, in curly black ink, was the word: 'Harry'. 

 

"BASTARD!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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