132. “We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”
If anyone asked Harry what was the most amusing sight he had ever seen, he’d say you being drunk.
You weren’t an emotional drunk, you were an interesting drunk. You were the type of drunk that can wake up in Paris after a wild night out, only because it felt right at that moment.
Harry sat on a couch in the VIP area where you and your friends were, having a night out. His eyes were on you as you danced with your friends, a smile on his face as he took sips of a non-alcoholic drink as he was the DD. He patted his lap when he saw you coming, walking slowly to avoid falling as you giggled.
You plopped on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re Harry, aren’t you?” You giggled.
He laughed and nodded. “You’re so drunk right now.”
“Drunk? Who’s drunk?” You asked him, putting your hands on his cheeks before your mouth opened in an O, eyes wide. “I have an idea!”
“Let’s play strip poker. Everyone, we’re playing strip poker!” You screamed, hearing everyone cheer.
“Oh hell no. Think that’s enough for tonight, baby. Come on. Let’s go home?” Harry asked you in a small voice, rubbing your back.
“But Harry,” You whined before pulling your dress strap down your shoulder only to have Harry instantly pull it back up. “I want to play strip poker.” You frowned, putting your head on his chest.
“Maybe later, baby. You need to sleep.” And so, he carried you in his arms bridal style, walking out of the club after throwing a “See you all later!”.
By the time Harry drove you home, helping you into your house with the spare keys he has, you were sleeping.
He tucked you into bed after taking off your shoes and dress, raising the cover to your chin before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
Too tired to drive back home, Harry placed himself beside you, barefoot and in his boxers, wrapping his arms around you, smiling when you scooted subconsciously closer to him.
Hours later you woke up, after having to wake up 3 times to throw up, 2 of them Harry being beside you, rubbing your back. You looked at Harry’s phone which was held by him close your face, playing Hay Day. You hummed, perking your head up to look at him.
“I feel like shit.”
He chuckled, rubbing your back, “Good morning to you, too, sunshine.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You let your head rest again on his chest. “How long have you been up?”
“An hour now.” He replied, you nodded. You and Harry had this tradition, if one of you both was sleeping over, you don’t leave the other one alone in bed sleeping—except to do the morning business but then you go back to bed. “Come on, you need food in you so you can take some Advil. My mum always told me that taking drugs on an empty stomach isn’t a good thing.”
You chuckled, kissing his bare chest before sitting up and stretching. “I’m just going to brush my teeth and do all that.”
Harry nodded, watching you as you stood up in nothing but your undergarments with a smile on his face. “Can I wear your t-shirt? The one you left here the other day?” You asked, already opening your closet.
“Oh wow, you asked. I’m used to you just stealing them up.” He teased you, crossing his arms behind his head.
You stuck your tongue out at him before turning your back to him, taking off your bra and wearing the big t-shirt, sighing once you felt a weight be lifted off. (A/N: freaking bras and their suffocation. free the boobies, ladies)
Harry had went to the kitchen, already starting to make French toast.
He smiled when he felt you wrap your arms around his waist for behind, pressing your cheek against his bare back.
“You know, you suggested something pretty interesting yesterday,” He began, you humming. “Strip poker.”
You gasped, “No!” You said in disbelief as he turned to look at you with a teasing smirk.
“Everyone, we’re playing strip poker!” He mimicked you, making you groan and unwrap your arms from around him to put them on your face to hide it. “Nothing happened though, don’t worry.”
“This is so embarrassing.”
“I’m actually up for that idea.” Harry said, putting his hands on yours to pry them off of your face.
You groaned, “Harrrryyy,” You dragged out, letting him pull your body closer to his by you waist.
“I’m going to get the cards after we finish breakfast.” He grinned.
“Harry Edward Styles, I’m not playing strip poker.”
“But you wanted to when you were drunk yesterday! What changed your mind?” He frowned childishly.
“We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.” You patted his chest.
“Sober you is no fun.” He pouted, hugging you and nuzzling his head in your neck.
You giggled, running your fingers through his hair before your smile dropped, whiffing the air. “Harry, the toast is burning.”
I have no idea why I like to end my imagines with something humorous. hope you like it! x