Repetition || Harry Styles

Prologue

TW: The following content discusses sensitive topics including drugs addiction, sex, physical violence, rape and death. This is work of fiction and does not reflect reality. Reader discretion is advised.

Prologue

"It's not exactly polite to smoke in front of someone's car, you know?" I jumped at the sound of a deep, raspy voice cutting through the silence. It wasn't just some random guy. It was that guy from the bar, the one with two women practically draped over him. I remember him for that. But mostly, for his unforgettable look.

I shot him an apologetic look, though it was mostly for show. "Sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Smoking out in the parking lot, huh?" His tone had a teasing edge, but I couldn't tell if it was going to turn sour. Is he really going to get petty about this? I sighed inwardly. If he does, I definitely don't have the energy for a fight tonight.

"Go on, drive away, and pretend I'm not here. I'm already out of your way." I waved him off, with a hint of sarcasm, leaning back against the solid brick wall behind me.

It was a relief to feel its cool surface steady me. I could feel his eyes is still on me, but I didn't care. I wasn't about to let some stranger ruin my night. He still hadn't start his car, and confusion crept in me. What's with this weirdo? I shot him a puzzled glance.

"Why are you just standing there?" I said, irritation creeping into my voice. "You planning to just stare at me all night?" The tension in the air hung thick, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was studying me for something I couldn't quite grasp.

"Can I have one?" At first, I didn't get what he meant, but when he pointed at my cigarette, I slowly nodded and tossed him one. His reflexes were impressive as he caught it mid-air. He walked over and leane against the brick wall beside me. Great, now he's right next to me. For Pete sake, I really didn't want to waste my breathe on this stranger. I was perfectly fine being alone and I wanted to keep it 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.

"Cigarette is a cigarette. Same nicotine and such no matter what brand." He replied, a hint of teasing 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 tousled hair was a bit longer, tousled just enough to look effortlesly cool, and his bright green eyes sparkled with a hint of mischeaf. He wore a black leather jacket that hugged his lean frame, with a plain white tshirt underneath, paired with ripped skinny jeans. Tattoos peeked from under sleeves, they were so many of them. A cigarette hung lazily from his fingers, and the smirk always suggested the he was up for a thrill. There was something dangerously alluring about him.

"Weird as it sounds, I chose your car to lean on because I like it. This shit is expensive, I know. I saw it in youtube." I bluntly said, just giving him a reason for why I was there in the first place.

He let out a sarcastic laugh, as if my honesty amused him. Maybe he thought I was funny or just weird, but honestly, who cares? I thought he was a bit strange, too. He lit his cigarettes, letting the smoke curl up into the air, and casually tucked his right hand into his pocket. I half-expected him to walk away after calling me out, but instead, he lingered, as if he planned to be friendly with someone like me. Was he really being friendly? His demeanor suggested otherwise, there was cool detachment about him that didn't scream warmth.