Still Mine

What if someone said something to you, trying to discourage you from following your dreams. Would you give up on that dream? Or would you follow that dream and prove them wrong. What if the person who tired to discourage you came to an event of your dream that is now reality and tried to win you back?

My name is Olivia Wilson, and I know what I'd do.


17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Liv’s POV

I woke up the next morning with a massive headache. I struggled to sit up, but once I did, I looked around at my surroundings. Where was I? I instantly looked at the other side of the bed, no one was there, but the sheets were ruffled. My heart beats faster and I looked down and thankfully I had clothes on, but they weren’t mine. I was wearing an over-sized t-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts

I could hardly remember anything from last night.

After looking around the room one more time, I decided to stand up and look around outside of the bedroom.

I began to walk down hallway, when a started to smell an aroma of food. I followed to smell to the end of the hallway and walked into a kitchen. Harry soon came into view, he looked like he was cooking something but I couldn’t tell what it was from here.

“Good morning,” he said as he cooked something on a skillet. “I thought you’d never wake up,” he added. “How’d you sleep?” he asked after I didn’t answer his greeting.

“Um good, I guess,” I said.

“Do you have a headache?” he asked and I nodded.

He went to a cabinet and took out a white bottle. He opened it and poured out a few pills before putting it back in the cabinet. He got me a glass of water, and then walked over to where I was now sitting on a stool at the counter.

“Here,” he said, holding out the pills and water.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and swallowed down the pills and water.

“So what happened last night?” I asked as I waited for the pills to take affect on my headache.

He looked over and smirked at me after I asked, and I was now nervous to hear his response.

“Don’t worry, nothing bad happened,” he said, noticing my nervous state.

“Your definition of bad and my definition of bad are two completely different things,” I told him, and he laughed at my response.

“I didn’t try anything if that’s what you’re asking.” he said, and I relaxed some, but I was still apprehensive.

“So what happened last night?” I asked again.

“Nothing really, basically you got drunk and I pretty much babysat you last night,” he told me.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“My house,” he told me.

“Why didn’t you just take me back to my apartment room?” I asked.

“You left your keycard in your room,” he told me.

“So why didn’t you just get me another one from the front desk?”

“Look, you should just be happy I let you stay here, I could’ve just left you at the bar,” he snapped.

“Where did these clothes come from?” I asked, trying to change to a different question I wanted an answer to.

“My closet,” he said sarcastically.

“These are your clothes?” I asked him.

“Obviously,” he said, keeping his sarcastic tone.

“I changed you into them last night so you wouldn’t have to sleep in your clothes.” he added.

“You changed me into these clothes?” I asked to clarify.

He looked up from his cooking and smirked at me and nodded. My chest tightens and I suddenly feel slightly embarrassed.

“Relax, I told you nothing happened,” he said, but I still gave him a nervous look.

He turned the stove off and walked over to me and put his hands on my arms.

“I didn’t do anything,” he told me, looking straight into my eyes.

“I wanted to, but I didn’t,” he adds and starts laughing as I playfully hit him in the arm.

He continues his playful laughter as he walks back over to the stove.

“Why are you acting like this?” I asked him.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Why are you being nice and friendly?”

“I guess I’m just a nice and friendly person,” he says and shrugs.

“Not to me,” I told him.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, and sets a plate of food in front of me.

“Don’t change the subject,” I said.

“Do you want some more water?” he asked as he picks up the cup in front of me and fills it with water.

“Answer my question,” I said, trying to sound demanding.

“What question?” he asked.

“What is with your sudden change in mood, you despised me three days ago.” I said irritated.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” he told me and quickly left the kitchen.

I sighed and continued to finish eating.


After I finished eating, I decided to get up and change into the clothes I had one yesterday. Harry still hadn’t come out from his room; he was probably avoiding me so he wouldn’t have to answer my question. I don’t why he was having such a problem answering, but if he thinks being friendly will fix everything he is wrong. I made promised myself I wouldn’t forgive him until he gave me a genuine apology. I assumed my clothes were in the room I was sleeping in, so I walked back down the hall to that room.

I approached the room and I was about to open the door, when I heard a voice coming from the other side. I took me hand off the doorknob and decided to listen for a few seconds.

“What am I supposed to say?” I heard Harry’s voice.

“Yes, that’s why I’m asking you.” he said.

“Forget it, I need to go,” he said, and then he said bye to whoever he was talking to.

I heard his footsteps come closer to the door, and I quickly walked back to the end of the hall.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked him as he stepped out of the room.

“Oh they’re in here,” he said, and walked back into the room as I followed him. “I could wash them for you if you want,” he offered.

“No, its fine,” I told him.

“Okay, I’ll just let you change then,” he said and began to walk out of the room, but he stopped and the doorway and stopped.

“I always liked the way you look in my clothes,” he smirks, as he looks me up and down before leaving.

I rolled my eyes at his comment, not letting it affect me. I picked up my clothes from where he had them folded on the dresser and began to change.

Once I finished changing, I set Harry’s clothes on the bed, and walk back out to the kitchen. When I didn’t see Harry there, I find my way to the living room. I saw Harry sitting on the couch and I go over and sit next to him.

“So what do you want to do today?” he asked me as he slides his phone in his pocket.

“I’d like you to take me back to my apartment,” I told him.

His face falls some, but he soon regains his regular look, “You sure? I was thinking we could go see a movie or something,” he suggests.

“Harry, I have a headache, I’m tired, and I want to change clothes, please just take me back to the apartment,” I say to him.

“So after you take a nap and change clothes we can go do something,” he said with a hopeful smile.

“I don’t know, I got drunk spending time with you yesterday,” I remind him.

“And whose fault is that?” he asked.

“Yours,” I stated.

“I don’t think it is,” he said with a playful smile.

“You pressured me, and you know I don’t respond well when people pressure me,” I complained.

“Well after two shots, you wouldn’t stop,” he smiled.

“Why weren’t you drunk?” I asked him and he shrugged.

“I guess I’m more used to alcohol in my system then you are. It’s been a while since you drank right?” he asked and I nodded.

“You’ve been drinking a lot lately?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” he mumbled and I decided not to say anything else on the subject.

“So can you take me back to the apartment?” I asked.

“Yeah, lets go,” he said and got up from the couch. 

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