I never really experienced the whole waking up next to someone ordeal before. Mostly because I've never really been in a committed relationship in the same way.

Yes, a few tinder dates and some miscellaneous hookups now and then. But it's different when it's the same person almost everyday.

And it's especially different when you enjoy their company, and aren't itching to kick them out of your apartment in hopes to never see them again, all the while telling them how much you previously enjoyed the night before and you definitely didn't fake your orgasms.

Esme genuinely shocks me when she tells me about the different sex scenarios she's experienced on account of tinder. I'm not really sure where I was going wrong, because what I was getting was definitely not the same as her.

I was convinced we were on two different apps at one point.

But waking up next to Harry is different. Because I enjoy it, and far too much at that. I never wanna leave.

He's so warm and smells heavenly.

And having his arms wrapped around me makes me feel safer than I ever have before.

I still can't quite believe he's my boyfriend.

Even Esme sometimes forgets he's actually Harry Styles, because when it's just us he's so normal.

It's most days I get to wake up next to him now, because if I'm not at his place, he'll be at mine.

He still lets me spend my quality time with Esme, because she'll always come first. She's been by my side since diapers and I can never replace her, we've experienced everything together and truly would do anything for each other.

And Harry understands that.

He admires our friendship, no matter how weird it can get.

So waking up next to him has become my new favorite thing, even if I've been late to rehearsals multiple times because I simply don't want to get out of bed.

However, right now isn't one of those favorite moments where I get to wake up to him, because he's not here.

I don't know where he is right now.

My head is spinning. I dread to think how long I've been asleep because I can just feel the tiredness in my bones and I don't even need to open my eyes to know the sun is already well risen.

It was practically dawn by the time we got home, I do remember that much.

I also remember saying something about wanting to see a sunflower as big as the sun. Which definitely indicates I had far too much to drink and I cannot begin to fathom what other things I said to him.

Another indication that I drank an obscene amount of alcohol is the way I feel right now.

My stomach is in knots and my head feels like it's about to burst from the pressure, and although I feel as though I'll be sick any minute, all I can think about is food.

I roll over in the sheets, stretching my arms above my head and yawning. A shiver going down my spine as I do.

My eyes squeeze close from the pleasure my aching body feels just from stretching and I swing my legs over the side of his bed that is almost the size of my whole bedroom.

I push off the bed, walking round the edge of his bed and into his wardrobe, grabbing a blue Hawaiian print shirt, admiring the palm tree design and buttoning it up so I'm not completely exposed.

Something tells me last night, when we got home I just took off all my clothes and got straight into bed. I probably passed out immediately.

The shirt falls just below my sunflower tattoo on my thigh and I forget how much bigger Harry is than me until I wear his clothes.

All I ever seem to do is wear his clothes because I have none of my own here.

I'll wear his shirts and joggers during the day, and when we're in bed I'll usually just wear a pair of his boxers. Which is something I never thought I'd do, purely out of the fact I'd thought I'd be uncomfortable for him to see me in such a vulnerable way.

Being naked and exposed like that during sex is very different in such normal context. Even things like having baths together were so alien to me.

But Harry being the amazing human he is, made me feel more than comfortable. And it just reinforces how safe I feel with him.

Skin on skin touch just makes me feel so much closer to him.

I never want to lose that.

I chose to go and find Harry rather than getting back into bed, because not only am I hungry but I don't think sleeping anymore will fix my problems.

It doesn't take too long to figure out his whereabouts because I can hear the sound of him shuffling about in the kitchen and the soft melodies of Fleetwood Mac playing in the background.

"Hi." I speak up, not realizing how much I've actually lost my voice.

I really must have been drunk last night to be like this.

I don't really remember the last time I got this badly drunk, me and Esme used to have designated sad days where we'd cry and drink until we passed out.

But I'd usually have some recollection of what happened the night before.

As of right now, all I can remember is small snippets and flashes of faces.

"Afternoon baby." Harry flashes a smile over his shoulder, standing in front of the stove.

I walk around the counter, taking in his appearance.

You can sound the scratchiness in his voice indicating he hasn't been awake much longer than me.

The grey sweatpants he's in are hung dangerously low on his hips, his toned body on full display all for me to enjoy.

"Did I wake you?" He questions as I walk up behind him.

"Hmm, no." I shake my head even though he's not looking at me.

"There's a glass of water and some advil on the side for you." He nods his head to the left of him and I smile as I grab the glass.

The icy water is incredibly refreshing and hopefully the tablets will help rid this horrendous banging in my head.

"How are you feeling this morning because last night you were-" Harry begins before I hold my hands up, waving them in front of my face and groaning.

"No, I don't even want to know what I was like last night. I want to forget it ever happened." I admit, hanging my head forward in shame.

"What? Even the part where you put a strip show on with Lady Gaga?" Harry laughs and my head shoots up so fast that the blood rushes to my head and I need another sip of water so I don't pass out.

"I what?" I question, hoping I didn't actually hear him right.

"Teasing, I'm just teasing. I wouldn't have let you do that while you were that intoxicated. But you did say you wish you were confident enough to do it while Gaga kept removing articles of her clothing." Harry glances at me, a cheeky grin plastered across his face and I glare at him. Not so impressed with his joke.

The thought of me actually stripping in front of people is a nightmare come to life.

Like the whole showing up to school naked kind of nightmare.

"Don't look at me like that Evie darling." Harry's words spark something in me and I just want to be closer to him.

I feel like I miss him when I'm not touching him.

I hope he doesn't think I'm being clingy.

Even though I am.

"What are you cooking H?" I ask, slowly lacing my arms around the middle of his stomach from behind and pressing my body into his back, my head level with his shoulder blades.

Whatever it is, it smells good.

"Pepper, tomato, onion and cheese omelets." He answers as I press a kiss to his right shoulder, holding my lips there for a moment too long.

"Sounds good." I hum into the back of his shoulders, moving my hand into the back of his curly hair.

I massage the back of his scalp, his hair already a scruffy mess and he only responds with a hum of pleasure.

His back muscles are so big and defined, I never really noticed them before because I was always admiring him from front on instead.

It doesn't surprise me he looks good from all angles though.

I definitely understand the hype.

"You still sound tired, go back to bed. I'll bring this in when it's ready." Harry turns around enough so his eyes can meet my face.

I give a small smile and nod in agreement, while untangling myself from him.

As I begin to walk away he speaks up again.

"Nice shirt by the way." I can hear the smirk in his voice, and I know he's only teasing because he likes it when I wear his shirts. He always tells me that he'd rather me in his clothes than wearing them himself.

I take a slow walk back to Harry's room, taking in the small details of his apartment like the small framed pictures of all the One Direction album covers on the small table in the hallway.

Me and Harry haven't spoken much about One Direction. He's told me a fair few stories about when he was in the band, but besides that he hasn't spoken much about it.

Once I get back to Harry's room, I throw myself onto the white comforter, spreading my arms out and falling face first into the soft blankety paradise.

I curl up in his bed, cocooning myself in the blanket while pulling my phone from the bedside table as I wait for Harry.

Harry must've plugged my phone in to charge last night because I don't think I would have been in the right frame of mind to remember to have done that.

It's the small things that make me care for Harry so much more. Like plugging my phone in, making breakfast, bringing me a cup of tea, having tablets and water ready for me, letting me wear his clothes, the list only goes on.

I don't think he understands how appreciative I am of it all. He probably doesn't even notice he does it because he is just that selfless.

I've yet to see what the media has said about me and Harry, if anything.

I know if they have that my best bet is to message Es and ask her what's been said.

Before I even message her my phone starts vibrating with all the messages from last night.

Almost all from Esme.

I click the small messages icon, first seeing a message from Bea.

'You and Harry both looked so hot, like holy mother of god. That's a power couple right there. Obviously you were the hotter of the two. Let me know when you'll next be by the cafe.'

There's a message from Jenny as well.

'Evie, Dani just showed me the photos from the met ball, you and Harry both looked beautiful. Pop round for coffee soon so you can fill me in on all the juicy details.'

And then there's a few from my mom, which include her praising me and telling me she's desperate to meet Harry.

When I first told her, she thought I was joking.

Even when I sent a picture of me and Harry through, she just thought it was photoshop or something that Esme had done.

It wasn't until Harry actually spoke to her on facetime that she realized what I was saying was the truth.

Of course my dad's only reaction was to make sure he's treating me well, in which my brother responded something about Harry's rich so he better be spending his money on me.

In other words, they didn't seem phased.

But the majority of my messages are courtesy of Esme.

The first one I see makes my stomach flip. I don't know how to feel, whether excited or nervous is the right answer.

It's a weird balance of the two.

'They love you. I mean they're all fucking jealous that you're dating Harry and also because of how stunning you are, but they all love you.'

That's the first message, followed with an attachment of loads of links to different articles.

I catch a glimpse of a few of them, not going into detail with them right now.

'Harry Styles announces relationship with ballerina Evangeline Johnson at Met Gala'

'Harry Styles says Evie is his most serious relationship yet'

'Fans go into a frenzy over Harry Styles new relationship'

'Evangeline Johnson - who is she? Everything you need to know about Harry Styles' new relationship'

Something tells me that Esme is purposefully keeping any negative articles to herself for the time being because she knew more than anyone how nervous I was for this.

"What are you smiling at?" Harry asks, walking into the bedroom with his messy brown curls flopped down in front of his eyes, and a tray in his hand.

"Nothing much." I brush off the news right now because I'd rather spend time with Harry doing nothing then obsessing over what the media is saying.

I'd really rather not get sucked into it all.

I didn't actually realize how hard I was smiling, or the fact I was biting at the tip of my finger until he pulled me from my thoughts.

"You're so beautiful." I speak my thoughts, not registering that I actually said the words aloud until Harry turns to me with a smile that's almost shy.

"What?" I ask, questioning the way he's looking at me. "You must hear it all the time."

"It's different coming from you. It means more when it's coming from you." He explains in little detail, not elaborating on why it means more.

He places the tray at the end of the bed, picking something up from it and walking closer to me.

"For you sunflower." He presses a kiss to my forehead before nudging my chin up with his thumb so he can kiss my lips.

As he walks back away to the tray to grab the food, I look down at the sunflower that he sneakily placed in my hands.

"I'm never going to stop giving you them." He speaks, not turning to look at me.

His words alone are enough to make my stomach flutter and heart beat faster.

I hope he never does. Honestly he could give me a rock or a feather and it would mean just as much because it's coming from him.

Everything he does, I hope I never have to go without.

Sunflowers have a whole new meaning now because of him.

Everything I do has a whole new meaning because of him.

He's completely changed my life.

I write this and make myself feel even more single than I am :(