Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⚡︎⟡₊ ⊹
twenty minutes later, harry parks on the street in front of a large house, the deep thump of music hitting you as soon as you step out of the passenger side.
the house is lit up, people milling about the front yard, drinks in hand. the bass feels like it's pulsing through the air, making the ground beneath your feet seem to hum.
you take in the sight, feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your stomach.
"this your first time?" harry asks, glancing at you.
his green eyes catch the glow of the porch lights, and for a moment, you feel caught. you quickly shake your head, lying through your teeth.
what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
before you can dwell on it, liam and the others join you, serena quickly grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the door.
"come on, babe, i'll introduce you to some people. we'll have a laugh."
true to her word, serena pulls you around the house, introducing you to groups of people. faces blur together, most of them tipsy but friendly, their voices a haze against the background music.
the house is alive with laughter and loud chatter, the air thick with the mingling scents of cheap perfume and spilled drinks.
after a while, you find yourself dancing alone in a corner, a red solo cup in hand.
the soft buzz of alcohol warms your chest, and you sway to the rhythm, letting the music carry you. serena's disappeared, off to the bathroom, and you're left in your own world, sipping from your cup now and then, feeling looser with each passing minute.
but a nagging worry creeps in—why hasn't she come back yet? is she alright?
a voice suddenly cuts through the music.
"you havin' fun?"
you turn, expecting to see liam or one of the other guys, but instead, it's a ginger-haired boy you don't recognize. the same one you'd seen earlier, hanging around harry.
"do i know you?" you shout over the bass, eyeing him warily.
he laughs, his breath heavy with the sharp stench of alcohol. his freckled hands slide around your waist, and he starts moving in time with you, far too close for comfort.
"nah, but i've heard about ya," he says, his lips brushing your ear. "and i gotta say... you're even hotter than they say."
you cringe at the smell of him, the slimy way his hands hold on to you.
you twist out of his grip, turning to face him.
his hands stay where they are, fingers pressing into your sides.
