One Direction One Shots

A Little Less Than Sixteen Candles Part 1

trigger warning: rape/trauma

Harry guided me with his hand on the small of my back, weaving through the crowd of people. I worried about whether or not the bouncer would let me in. Liam, my cousin, would've never let me go to a night club, but I had snuck out and asked Harry to take me, so he could protect me if anything bad happened. As we approached The Smoky Attic at nearly three in the morning, it was still jumping and alive. Colored lights blinked and changed and music pounded, muffled from outside. When we reached the door, the bouncer, a huge, frightening man with a stern glare, gave me a strange look.

"She's with me," Harry said, removing his superfluous sunglasses. The man nodded and let us through. As I stepped through the door, the music blasted in my ears and I was assaulted with a smell of alcohol, perfume and sweat. I turned to Harry, but he was already gone. I was shoved into the bumping crowd on the dance floor and I fell to my hands and knees. My contacts each fell out onto the dirty floor. Invisible.

Thirty seconds in the club and I already couldn't see. My vision fuzzy and confusing, I stood to my feet and shoved my way out of the crowd and into the back hallway where the bathrooms and the back door into the alley were. This wasn't much fun. Without Harry I was alone and bored. I reached into my purse and pulled out my glasses.

I leaned against the wall, watching the swirling, colorful couples drunkenly grinding as rainbow lights spilled over them. I watched for what seemed like hours until a woman in a tight pink shirt and white shorts emerged from the crowd. She was a very tall, slender, angular girl, probably only a five or six years older than I. She was holding a tray of shot glasses that were filled with clear liquid.

"What are you doing here, all alone?" She said in a sweet voice. I shrugged. "Boyfriend leave you behind?"

"Haven't got one," I thought of Harry. "I'm here alone."

"How old are you sweet pea?"

I started. If she found out I was sixteen I could be thrown out; and then I would lose Harry completely for sure and I would have no way home. "I uh... nineteen," I studdered.

"Take one?" she held the tray out to me. Tentatively, I plucked one of the small glasses from the tray and eyed it. At a closer look, the liquid has a pinkish sheen to it. I tipped my head back and dumped the stuff into my mouth.

Sickly sweet and somehow horrifyingly bitter at the same time, I choked and coughed. Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath. The girl took little further notice of me as she walked away silently, realizing I probably wasn't going to tip her.

Harry found me, then, drunk and crazed, and pinned me to the wall instantly. I felt his sweat on me and I couldn't move beneath him.

"Shh," he whispered.

"Harry... what are you doing?" I mumbled worriedly. He was tangling his fingers in my blonde hair and it hurt. He crushed his lips against mine and I tasted alcohol on his breath.

"Sh, I'm not going to hurt you," he slurred and jammed his lips onto mine again.

Before I could say anything, he pushed me out the back door into the alleyway and shoved me against the outside brick wall. He grinned and pulled me by the front of my blouse, throwing me to the ground. I landed on my bare knees; muddy gravel and broken glass dug into my skin. I gasped in pain.

"Shut up," he slapped me and I tasted blood in my mouth. He unbuttoned his black skinny jeans and spat, "Open your mouth, darling."

"Okay," I whispered, submissively, swallowing metallic blood.