Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cov...
I hate her, I hate her, I fucking hate her. If she died right now, I wouldn't care. My main concern would be how I would get my money for this stunt. I have not an ounce of a feeling for this girl in front of me, yet I can't move under her angry gaze. I wouldn't dare. "Fuck you." I whisper out a pitiful insult to get...
Working for a world-leading mafia, Harry knows how to kill, how to hunt his victims, and how to avoid any company of any kind. He's used to a lonely, quiet, and harsh environment. He is the best at what he does. And everything he does becomes problematic when he's assigned to protect the boss's daughter from world-kno...