in which joelle d'amore is completing her final semester of university in the grand city of los angeles, california. when she finds herself in the presence of harry styles, a piercing man with dangerous agendas, she is permeated with fear. she saw s...
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We're stuck on the 101 freeway—bumper to bumper. Being so deep and astray in thought, I hadn't asked Harry where he was heading to yet. I look over at him. The red taillights from the car in front of us reflect against the bottom half of his face. He has an unlit cigarette balanced between his teeth as he searches for a lighter in the console underneath his right arm. He's also bobbing his head along to Smells Like Teen Spirit.
Over the loud music on the radio, I ask, "Where are we going?"
He looks at me as he holds his lighter between his heavily inked fingers. We continue to keep at a slow pace in the middle of a terrible traffic jam. He heard me, I'm sure, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he inhales at his crisp smoke before screaming the lyrics, "Here we are now! Entertain us! I feel stupid... and contagious!"
There was a rasp in the loud voice emitted from his throat. I only stare as smoke leaves his lungs at the same time. I hadn't expected him to yell—or sing the lyrics to my face. The randomness of it arose a laugh out of me. "Harry," I say his name again when he pauses to take another drag of smoke in. "Seriously, where are we going?!"
He lolls his head back, holding in the toxins he breathed. He rests an arm out of his rolled-down window while his other hand remains on the wheel. He's tapping slender fingers along to the underlying beat of heavy drums.
"Harry!" I yell because now I'm certain he's ignoring me.
Harry coughs out what he's smoked. With a groan, he reaches out to turn the volume down. "What?! What are you interrupting me in the middle of this song for?" He scoffs out.
"I want to know where you're taking me."
"Oh," he then says when he looks over to meet my stare. "Well, figuring you have nowhere to go... I'm taking you to my place."
The change in his tone makes me want to roll my eyes. He could be calm and nice if he truly wanted to. I then say, "I think I'd rather face August."
He chuckles as he looks away to stare out at the numbing traffic again. "You sound awfully ungrateful figuring I just saved your ass," he tells me in response to my side comment.
I huff. "You had no right to drag me out of there," I mumble, referring to Niall's home. My arms are crossed against my chest because my breasts aren't secured. I've already subtly tucked my bra into my bag after having no other option. It's not like I could put it back on when Harry is sitting right next to me. I'm still embarrassed if I'm being honest with myself.
"Don't tell me you wanted to stay and fuck a druggie." He laughs over cruel words.
"You know, you're so quick to refer to Niall as a druggie... but, tell me, who sells him the drugs?" I spike an eyebrow at him all while he continues to smoke his cigarette.
