medicine {h.s}

03

Isabella Prescott

We stared at each other for a long moment.

Only now did I look at what he was wearing. He was wearing black jeans on his legs, which accentuated his slim legs perfectly. A black t-shirt, and a dark hoodie. In his hand he held a large bag. On his feet were black boots, with higher heels.

I did not say a word. I took the bottle and brought it to my lips again, keeping eye contact with him.

However, a large hand, which was adorned with signet rings, snatched it from me.

''Good girls don't drink. Go home.'' He muttered, I rolled my eyes and stood up, almost falling off the bench. I tried to take the glass bottle from him, but he put his hand up.

He looked at me with pity, and a slight smile was painted on his lips.

''Give it back.'' I growled.

''Honey, it's long past your bedtime. You should have been in bed long ago.'' he muttered. Sweetheart? Why did he call me that.

I glanced at the silver watch on my hand. It was after ten o'clock. This time goes by really fast.

''Give it back.'' I looked again into his green irises, which the bright moonlight illuminated and made them more brilliant. I couldn't make out anything from them. They were so mysterious, like himself. ''Why do you need this bag?'' I pointed at what he was holding in his hand, I wanted to change the subject and make him give me my drink. 

He swallowed his drool and tightened his hand on the handle.

''It doesn't matter.'' He muttered. ''Go home. I am serious.'' I laughed and took the bag from him.

I was drunk and didn't think about what I was doing. The charm of alcohol and having a weak head.

''Give it back.'' he growled. I stepped aside and started running towards the pond.

The boy threw the bottle, it broke, and I cursed under my breath.

I lost a friend.

I stopped at the very edge of the pond and stuck out my hand with the bag over the water. I had no intention of throwing it in, but I wanted to irritate him a little.

''Give it back.'' he growled.

I laughed, but after a while I took my hand away and the boy breathed a sigh of relief. Instead of handing him the bag, I moved with it towards the central exit of the park.

I walked backwards laughing at the boy, who was a little nervous. He was shaking his head and saying something under his breath. Eventually I bounced my back against something hard.

I dropped his bag and slowly turned around. 

A tall, well-built man, with a hood over his head, grabbed my arm. He pressed me against him and put a knife under my throat. I sobered up instantly.

''Styles, is this your friend?'' a male voice said.

''No. You can let her go.'' The boy sighed.

''I'll do it after I've had my fun with her.'' I swallowed my drool loudly. ''You can go now Harry.'' I mean the brunette, his name is Harry.

Great. I was drunk. I didn't really understand what was going on, and some dark type probably wants to rape me.

I just hope Harry doesn't leave me. Then he'd not only be an asshole, but a motherfucker.

''You have the money. Let her go.'' Said Harry calmly, the guy laughed out loud and pressed the blade against my throat.

This is no time to die Bella.