Spray Paint || LT
- Reads 30
- Votes 3
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Tue, Mar 10, 2015
I went down the dark streets of London. Dim light illuminating the night and I was honestly a little scared. I was on my way home from a night out with my best friends and I hated the fact that my mother wouldn't let me sleep over there. Instead I'm walking through the cold, frightening night. Thank you mother I really appreciate that.
Chills ran down my spine as I saw a dark shadow around the corner, sprinting down the streets. What the hell? I stood there watching the person run away and I swear I was never that scared in my life. The boy turned around, eyes wide and shock plastered on his face the moment he saw me standing there, pressed against the wall.
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This story contains graphic depictions of violence, sexuality, strong language, and/or other mature themes.
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*Story contains mature and explicit content* "Something wrong sweetheart ?" Harry's cocky tone only makes my blood boil more, and I don't even think before I throw my knife to his head. Of course he dodges it easily, and he quickly pulls it out of the wall and throws it right back to my face. Thankfully Zayn and his magical fucking reflexes catch it a few inches away from my head, and Harry smiles, dimples out on display, looking pretty fucking satisfied that he succeeded whatever he wanted to do. Did the fucker just try to stab me in the eye right now ? "You fucking piece of shi-" I start yelling but Zayn is quick to snap his hand to my mouth to shut me up, growling into my ear and roughly pulling me back until I'm pressed against his chest. "Shut the fuck up you dumbass ! Are you trying to get us all killed ??" he pulls his hand away and spins me around abruptly before he shoves me towards the door. "Out. Now." **** Or the one where Louis and Harry kind of hate but kind of like each other, and have to work together when their friends disappear... and then everything changes. **** Reminder: this is simply a work of fiction, this story is in no way meant to represent anyone's actual life nor does it represent my thoughts on the people whose names I use.
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