Connected

9: Confessions

I have a couple hours to myself, so I go into the kitchen and look for some shot glasses. No, I'm not gonna drink, I'm gonna do the Kylie Jenner challenge. My lips are a pretty good size, but I'd like to see what they would look like if they were bigger. After a minute of searching, I've finally found the shot glasses. I grab one, and place it around my lips and I start sucking. (A/N: Shut the fuck up, don't even start with me.) 45 seconds later, I have hugs lips. They look good, so I put some red lipstick on and take some selfies.

I put on the TV and Fresh Prince of bel air is on and I grin. This was the show omg. An hour and a half later, I decide to re do the Kylie Jenner challenge. After Im finished, my lips look amazing, and I smirk to myself. They're big, but not ugly like a duck.

I look in the mirror, tired of my purple hair, so I dye it back to its original color; black. 45 minutes later, I have nice hair, nice lips and 4 of my favorite boys on their way home.

Soon, I hear the door open and in comes 4 boys. "Hi." I smile.

"Woah, did you get some lip injections while we were gone!?" Niall asks.

"No, I did the Kylie Jenner thingy." I tell him.

"What's that?"

"When you take a shot glass and put it to your lips, suck for 45 seconds-" I'm cut off by their snickering but continue, "and voilà." I finish, making kissy faces at them.

"What about your hair?" Niall questions.

"I dyed it," I say with a shrug.

"I like it." Harry smiles at me, causing my cheeks to turn a deep shade of pink.

"Thank you." I say, my smile still visible.

Later, around six or seven at night, after a fun day of video games, pranks, jokes, and laughs, we decide its time to eat. "Chipotle?" Louis suggests, and we all agree. I like chipotle a lot, but Im not 'OMG CHIPOTLE IS MY LIFE.' Its annoying when people do that. I decide I'll run and get it so that they arent bombarded by fans.

"I'll come with you." Harry offers and the boys are either giggling or smirking, causing Harry to shoot them a death glare. If looks could kill, there would be a world wide massacre. I smile to myself, remembering what happened this morning. He pulls a hoodie over his head and adjusts his nike shorts. "You ready?"

"Yeah, lets go." I say, heading for the door. Once we're out, Harry surprises me by taking my hand into his. I feel heat rushing up to my cheeks and smile. We get into his car, and drive up to the glorious Chipotle.

We head out to Harrys car, hand in hand, when I see two guys just staring dead at us. I lean into Harry and whisper "They either know who you are or who I am."

They start walking towards us and I see knives in their hands. Yep, they're definitely coming after me. I start to panic. What if they get Harry? What if they kill him? Even worse, what if they torture him? I know death seems like the worst thing, but trust me, its a privilege compared to the hell they put you through when you're being tortured. I clench my jaw at the thought of someone hurting Harry. I have to be brave, show them that I'm done with them and let them know they need to stop fucking with me.

The two men, who appear to be in their early twenties, approach us. "Have you seen a girl with purple hair?" one of them asks, and I decide to play slick.

"No, have you?" I ask Harry and he shakes his head. "Is she missing? You should call the police if she is."

"No need for that." The other man speaks up.

"Alright, well I hope you find her, good luck." Harry says in a surprisingly good American accent, and the men turn on their heels and walk off into the darkness. Harry then turns to me and whispers, "I feel so cool right now, we just tricked them!"