he's my target. the blond one - is he even blond? it looks badly dyed; dark brown snaking up towards the bleached tips. he's laughing, a thundering cacophony that echoes its way through the room. i look around the crowded pub. people must be staring at him; wondering why he's being so unnecessarily loud. i'm wrong. everyone else is lost in their own conversations. the blond guy blends in with the rest of the buzz.
i dive in closer, preparing myself to make a move. there's only a few people in between us now. he's still chuckling, a beer secured firmly in his hand. the foam on top spills over the edge, running down the glass and onto his skin. he notices and swaps hands, wiping the alcohol onto his jeans. i notice how think his legs are, enclosed within tight clothing. his knees stick out. he's nothing but skin and bone - apart from his face. i stare at it, his round cheeks blistered red against the pale complexion. i think his eyes are blue, but the lighting's so dim in here it's difficult to tell. they're big and round, like a new born baby's, ready to explore the world. it seems a shame to capture someone so full of excitement and bliss. but he's cute, and that's what really matters.
YOU ARE READING
bittersweet ; n.s
Фанфикharry wants niall - but not in that way. not the way which involves gentle kisses before bed, or the way that includes delicately wrapped flowers with deep crimson petals on valentines day. it's a bittersweet kind of relationship. built on lust, lie...
