Locked With Him

NOT AN UPDATE!!!

OK, FIRST OF ALL, THIS ISN'T AN UPDATE!!

I'm sorry to disappoint you guys, but I want to introduce you to my new story. Of course, it's a Zerrie fanfic.

It's called Darling. and it's about Perrie (half hippie, sort of..), and she moves from England to a small town in Alabama, America. She arrives at an old, but pretty and big house, where she meets five boys, and they'll take her into their house.

The stories takes place in the year 1965, the period when the Vietnam War is about to start in America (Guess what will happen;)

Anyways, to get you guys into the story, I've wrote down the first part of chapter 1:

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CHAPTER ONE

I step outside the vihycle, standing in from of a big, but old, yellow painted house, with a dilapidated and unkempt garden. I'm not sure why the driver brought me here, but I thank him anyway.

I grab the old, brown suitcase my mum gave me as a present for my tenth birthday, for when I'd travel far away, and then walk towards the house. When I'm about to walk up the veranda, a dog barks loudly and I let out a muffled scream. Suddenly a men appears. First, he has an angered expression on his face, but when he notices me, his features soften. Then a smirk forms on his lips.

'Well hello there.' He smirks.

'Hey..' I force myself to smile.

'I'm Harry.' He says, putting out his hand, so I can shake it.

'Perrie.' I say.

'So what can I do for you?' He asks.

'I, uhm, just wanted to know where I am, because a driver dropped me off here and I'm not sure why he-...' I don't know why I tell him all of this, and probably he doesn't know it either, because he cuts me off.

'Wow, you're british?' He asks, a grin plastered on his face.

'Yea, so?' I ask, placing my hands on my hips.

'Nothing. Sit down.' he gestures for me to sit down on a wooden chair on the veranda.

'It won't break?' I ask, just to be sure. He raises his eyebrow.

'Why would you think that?' He asks.

'Well, because this whole place seems.. I don't know... A bit old and...' I start explaining, but then I see his expression and I trail off.

'Sweetie, you're expecting too much of us. You want guys with manners. Men who talk properly. Girls in pink dresses, with ponytails and bows in their hair?' He asks.

'That's not what I want.' I scoff.

'Prove it.' He challenges.

'I will,' I say, 'you prick.'

'Oh, so the british girl has an attitude.' he smirks.

'Yes, the british girl has.' I say, glaring at him.

'Well, if you want to prove it so badly, I know something for you..' He says, gesturing for me to follow.

We enter the house and I smell a tint of paint. We enter what seems like the living room and I'm forced to meet two other boys.

'Look who I brought with me.' Harry says, pointing to me. I glare at him

'You didn't bring me, I got here myself.' I tell him and he chuckles.

'Anyway, this is Perrie, a British one.' He says.

'Hello Perrie, I'm Liam.' The one sitting next to the window, behind a typewriter, says. I smile at him. At least he's nice.