"Think you can take me?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Are you doubting me?" She answered.
//
Natalie Perkins, born in London. The FBI is after her for the assassination of fourteen men. All of them brutally murdered one day of the week, all of them left wi...
The tyranny The violent streets Deprived of all that we're blessed with And we can't get enough, no
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"I told you not to get me drunk." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Shut up! None of us are lightweights with alcohol, just drink the goddamn shot!" I chuckled, throwing my hands into the air.
"You're literally trying to get me drunk!" Harry smiled, arguing back playfully. "Don't know 'bout you, but it seems to me that you don't know how a real date works."
"Oh, yeah? Teach me." I motioned with my head.
"Well..." He arched his eyebrows, putting down the shot glass on the table. "First of all, you're supposed to eat. Alcohol isn't involved, unless we're talking about wine or something fancy. And then, I take you home and we fuck."
"Sounds like a plan to me, let's get to the part where we fuck." I nodded, making Harry laugh.
"You're something else." He snorted, looking down at his plate.
I hadn't been eating much, just picking on the food every now and then. I wasn't really hungry, but when was I anyways? I knew eventually Harry would get tired and shove the fork down my throat, but I was truly feeling just fine.
We had been sitting here for around forty five minutes and basically, all we had done was talk. We had teased each other every now and then... and by that I mean we had been teasing each other throughout the whole dinner.
Harry was so cute, I thought back to day one when I absolutely despised him and the only thing I wanted to tell that Natalie was to get her shit together... she had no idea what was expecting her. It had been six weeks since then, it felt like a fucking year.
I found out Harry's mother had died too... and that's when I brought up everything about his father. He didn't exactly enjoy that part of the conversation, but he made sure to keep a chill facade. Not exactly convincing though.
I told him who his father really was and he ran to the bathroom to throw up. Of course he wouldn't have wanted him to die just like that, he was still his father after all, but he was as disgusted as I was and I was glad he was finally getting to know the whole truth.
I knew he didn't hate me anymore about it, but I just needed to tell him. I couldn't bear leaving with Harry knowing that he thought I had killed his father just because I felt like it.
The dinner wasn't conventional, it was around two a.m. and we hadn't even finished eating, but that's what I loved about it. We talked about a lot of stuff, mostly to get to know each other, and I felt a little bit closer to him now. We mostly annoyed each other though.
But I enjoyed it. It made me feel normal for once, like I couldn't ruin what we had going on. For a moment, I pictured us as a regular couple... I don't know, maybe we met in college and we fell in love.
