The Beacon [h.s]

18

Harry Styles

"And where do you think you're going?" I stop in front of Nyla in the middle of the dance floor.

"What happened to your dance partner?" She asks instead, looking up at me with raised eyebrows. I smirk, knowing she watched me stick my tongue down that clingy bitch's throat.

"I could ask you the same question." I reply, raising my voice so she can hear me over the loud music. I saw Nyla leave that guy she was fucking grinding on while I was telling the blonde girl to fuck off. And no, I didn't remember the bitch's name either.

Nyla looks at me for a moment until she's shaking her head and moving aside from me, walking in the direction of the bar. I follow her of course, not letting her just walk off like that with a scoff.

"I asked you a fucking question."

"And if I don't feel like answering?" She turns to face me once we're back at the two chairs we once sat at.

"Stop with the attitude, smart ass. It isn't pretty." I  mutter down at her, my hands curling into fists.

"And who said I'm looking for your validation?" She doesn't miss a beat, her voice bitter all of a sudden.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" My face scrunches, not liking her damn attitude, I could feel my skin heat up, prickling with anger.

"Nothing. I'm just done allowing you to walk all over me, is all." She shrugs and grabs her cardigan from the chair I placed it on and walks away from me.

"Are you-" But I don't have time to argue as she's already halfway through the dance floor again, heading to the main entrance.

"For fuck's sake." I mumble to myself with a groan. My hand grabs onto a random open bottle of alcohol from behind the counter, pouring it into my mouth until I swallow what tastes like tequila.

Nyla gives me a fucking headache.

Placing the bottle back, I leave the bar counter before the bartender could notice and I'm stupidly following Nyla's tracks.

I shove dancing bodies away from me as I push through the crowd, trying not to cringe as their sweaty skin touches mine, and I walk back to the front entrance. The bouncer gives me a nod as I make my way out. I don't bother returning a nod back as my head is busy turning in various directions on the sidewalk looking for Nyla. My hand runs through my hair, pushing my curls back and away from my sweaty forehead. The cool breeze once I'm outside refreshens me and helps to focus my senses more.

The street isn't as busy as it was when we first walked inside. A couple people walk past, cars zoom by occasionally, the lit up buildings being the only form of light in the dark night. Reaching in the back of my jeans, I pull my phone out to read 12:11 am and stuff it back inside my pocket, and it's then I remember what's tucked in the front of my jeans. Nyla's phone.

She's walking alone on the streets of L.A. in the middle of the night as a woman and she doesn't have a damn phone. This girl seriously is fucking stupid.

I grab her phone out of the front of my jeans and stick it in my other back pocket. Throwing my head back in frustration, my eyes meet the clear night sky, squeezing my eyes shut until I open them again.

"What the fuck am I doing?" My arms throw out as I ask the sky like I'm going to get a fucking answer. No, I'm not drunk or even tipsy in the slightest, but to the people walking past me, they might think otherwise.

"Can I fucking help you?" I shoot a glare at an idiot guy giving me a weird stare. He quickly shakes his head in fear and walks fast down the sidewalk.