H.S. Short stories (drafts)

Thief

((Description::
Thief :
/THēf/
Noun
A person who steals another person's property, especially by stealth and without using force or violence.
Similar: robber, burglar, shop lifter, mugger, pickpocket, bandit, looter, tea leaf, raider, criminal.

There was only one word that came to mind whenever I thought of him, and even though I thought plenty of other words towards him, Thief will always be the main one. The only one.))

Chapter 1

I had never been smacked in the face before.

In my 24 whole years of existence, well it would have been 25 but just a couple weeks before my 25th birthday I stood holding my flaming hot cheek in complete silence as over 200 people stared at me and my best friend in the middle of the dance floor.

Okay, EX best friend, as of .25 seconds ago. But who's counting?

"What the fück was that for?!" I yelled angry and surprised, not to mention physically hurt.

"Like you don't know!" I had known my best friend for a solid 3 years now, we had met during college and easily bonded over the littlest things. Even men. "I told you I called dibs!"

I had a feeling this was what it was about but I didn't think she would smack me over it.

"He came on to me! He asked me out! He didn't ask me if my best friend was available! He was interested in me!"

Okay, I know that may have come off a bit narcissistic but in my defense I completely blacked out all normal functions when THE Harry Styles caught my arm as I passed him in a dark alley just past midnight after leaving the club last week.

"EX Best Friend, you fuckin bitch. You KNEW I liked him, long before I even met you! And who the fuck cares if he was interested in you, you're suppose to make me look good! I had to find out from Crusty-Ass Carol that you brought home Harry motherfuckin Styles last week, not just once either, No! Three nights and you didn't even mention it to me! I bet it didn't even cross your mind, because you were too wrapped around his cock to remember your best friend called dibs on him months ago!"

And the sad part was, my own best friend thought less of me than I could have ever thought of my own self.

"Keep your voice down." I growl, embarrassed this packed club could potentially be hearing this whole conversation.

"Or what?! Don't want the world to know that-" and just when I thought the night couldn't get any worse she decides to shout at the top of her lungs "YOU FUCKED HARRY STYLES?! "

My face is on fire.

"How could you?" I whisper.

"HOW COULD YOU!? You broke the girl-code, bitch."

Turning on my foot i weave through the massive crowd and do my best to make my way to the exit, the red beaming light grows bigger the closer I get.

A warm firm hand clasps around the crook of my elbow, I'm scared to face the unknown and I do so with a worried expression.

"Let me go." I whimper looking up to see who has a hold on my arm. "Oh it's you."

"Heeyyy!" He slurrs, he's clearly intoxicated and unfortunately for me I am not. I haven't talked to him when I'm sober and I don't think he's been sober talking to me either.

"Sorry, I have to go. I need to leave."