Caught in a deadly game of cat and mouse, Paris must decide whether she'll become a pawn in Harry's dark world or fight back for her freedom and for her life.
18+
+++ Harry Styles Fanfiction
TW: The following content discusses sensitive topics including drug addiction, sex, physical violence, rape, and death. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect reality. Reader discretion is advised.
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Love, Harry.
Prologue
"It's not exactly polite to smoke in front of someone's car, you know?" I jumped when I heard a deep, raspy voice break the silence. It was not simply any random person. It was the guy at the bar with two women practically wrapped over him. I remember him for that. But especially for his unforgettable looks.
I gave him an apologetic face, partly for show. "Sorry. I didn't see you there."
"Smoking out in the parking lot, huh?" his tone was mocking, but I wasn't sure whether it was going to turn sour. Is he really going to be petty about it? I sighed inwardly. If he does, I don't have the energy to fight tonight.
"Go on, drive away, and pretend I'm not here. I'm already out of your way." I waved him off, leaning back against the thick brick wall behind me.
Feeling its cool surface support me was a relief. I was aware that he was still staring at me, but I ignored it. I had no intention of letting a stranger ruin the rest of my night. I started to get confused because he still hadn't started his car. What's up with this weirdo? I gave him a look of confusion.
"Why are you just standing there?" I asked, my voice beginning to grow irritated. The air was heavy with tension, and I couldn't get rid of the impression that he was observing me for something I couldn't fully understand. "You planning to just stare at me all night?"
"Can I have one?" he asked, my eyebrows raised.
I was confused at first, but as he gestured to my cigarette, I nodded slowly and threw one at him. He captured it in midair, demonstrating his remarkable reflexes. He moved to stand next to me, leaning on the brick wall. Well, he's right beside me now. I didn't want to let this stranger waste my breath, for heaven's sake. Being by myself was good with me, and I wanted to stay that way.
"This isn't your typical cigarette, you know? This one's a cheap brand." I said, waving the pack in front of him, making sure he caught a glimpse of the label.
"It doesn't matter. It's the same nicotine shit and such no matter what brand," he said, a tinge of taunting in his voice as he took the lighter I offered.
The light flickered across his face. It wasn't completely dark, but the glow illuminated the structure of his features as he lit the cigarette, the flame casting shadows that highlighted his jawline.
He's gorgeous. His wavy hair was somewhat longer, tousled just enough to appear effortlessly cool, and his beautiful green eyes glittered with a hint of mischief. He wore a black leather jacket that hugged his slender body, a plain white t-shirt underneath, and ripped skinny jeans. Tattoos popped out from under sleeves; there were so many of them. A cigarette hung lazily from his fingers, and his smirk always indicated that he was looking for a thrill. There was something dangerously appealing about him.
