Night Changes// L.T AU

Chapter 3- Drinks

*Alex from target follows me on twitter*

I woke up to darkness. I felt mucky as I lie in the disgusting alleyway. Confusion ran through my head before the memories flooded my mind. I let out a sob as tears poured down my face, like a waterfall. My stomach tightened once again. I get off my bottom and tried to regain my balance as I kept my hands on the brick wall. What possessed me to do this? I'm such an idiot. Dirt stains my once white dress. I rip off the lace sleeves and cover of the bottom off my dress. My hair probably looks like a nest, right now. My face is sweaty and greasy. Yep, this is definitely how a bride is supposed to look like on her wedding day. But what's a bride without a groom? Just a women I suppose. I slowly walk out of the alley. This isn't safe at all.

My eyes focus on what looks like a bar. As I walk closer to it, I see that it is in fact a bar. Perfect.

I jog over to the brick building. A lot less people are wondering in the streets so that means less judgmental stares. I push open the glass doors of the bar and instantly everyone stops to look at me. I pretend not to notice and walk over to the stools.

"ID please," the bartender says in a thick British accent. Crap, I forgot my purse at the church.

"I d-don't have it," I say, a chill running through my body. It's pretty cold in here.

He gives me a sympathetic stare, "Well since it looks like you really need one, I'll let you off the hook. What do you want?" He questions me.

Another tear slips out of my eye, "surprise me," I say to the bartender, giving a small grin. His head was mopped with long curls.

"Alrighty Miss, tough night?" He asks me with a dimpled grin.

"Oh, you have no idea," I say, attempting to smile.

Just then, the bar doors smash open and a man swarms in, plopping down right next to me with a suit on. He smells just as bad as me, but when he looks at me and we make eye contact for just a few seconds, my heart stops. He is stunning. His eyes are grey and bloodshot but his facial features are really something. His brown hair is styled with a small curl in the front. He looks wrecked right now, but I can only imagine how he looks when he's happy and clean. Just for a second I forget about everything, but soon the pain shoots straight through me.

"Here's your drink," the boy, Harry according to his name tag, says in a deep raspy voice.

"Thanks," I respond quietly, taking a small sip of the liquor.

Harry looks at the mystery man. "And what would you like sir?" He asks.

"Surprise me." he responds in an accent, too. What's up with British people in America?

Harry lets out a chuckle probably because I said that, too. I wonder what happened to this guy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him glancing at me. He's probably wondering what's wrong with me, but I wouldn't burden him with my story.

I take another sip and the strong liquid slides down my throat. I crinkle my nose at the taste. I finally realize it's vodka.

"Good choice," I call to Harry. He looks back and gives me a smile.

He returns with a drink for the man. "Here you go sir," he hands the drink to the man.

"Louis," the man responds.

"Excuse m- oh that's your name," Harry says, his cheeks burning with red. What a dork. "What about you, what's your name?" Harry questions me.

"Why do you care?" I retort to Harry.