Blackout~One direction

Blackout~One direction

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jul 13, 2013
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Fanfic
1Direction
Seventeen year old Lana Wright has never had it easy. She was a mistake, or so her mother told her. With a broken home and friends who hate her, she feels as though there's almost nothing to look forward to, besides her upcoming eighteenth birthday, but one day, as she's walking home from school, she passes out, and is rescued by five heroes who show her that there is so much more to life than she thought. “Harry? Is she up?” asked a slightly high-pitched male voice from what was assumedly down the hall. A second boy trotted up behind the curly haired boy in the doorway. The new guy had straight, flippy, light brown hair and high arched eyebrows. He saw me and smiled. “Yep, Louis, she’s up. I came in to find her digging through my dirty laundry.” said the first boy, who had been addressed as Harry. I reddened at the light brown haired boy’s entertainment with this. “I wasn’t digging through his laundry.” I mumbled. Louis raised one eyebrow. “Where the heck am I?” I said, changing the subject. Harry and Louis looked surprised, “Oh sorry, you must be so confused right now. We found you blacked out in the side of the road.” said Harry, chuckling a bit. “So you just… rescued me?” I said.
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"Why do you care?" he asks. But it's not soft. It's sharp, defensive, like he's already bracing for the answer. I want to tell him the truth. Because you saved me. Because you're the only one who makes me feel real. Because if you fall apart, I don't know what happens to the rest of us. Instead, I just say, "Maybe I want to understand." He scoffs, no humor in it. "You don't. Trust me." Silence stretches between us. Then he steps forward, close enough that I can see the way his hands won't stop shaking. "You already know too much," he says, voice low. "More than you ever should've." I don't look away. "Then tell me the rest." He shakes his head. "It's not your place. You don't get to ask." "But I am asking." He exhales sharply. "Jesus, Lily. This isn't a story with a clean ending. I'm not a mystery. I'm a goddamn warning sign. I'm dangerous." I flinch, but I don't move. And that pisses him off more. He takes a step back like he's going to leave, then pauses. His eyes flick to my jacket. In one quick motion, he reaches in and pulls out the burner phone. "I think this belongs to me," he says, tone sharp but quiet. No accusation. Just fact. I don't respond. Just watch as he slips it into his pocket, like closing a door I wasn't supposed to open. He looks at me for one long second, jaw clenched. "Go home," he says again, this time like a warning. And this time, I believe him. He crushes the cigarette under his boot, turns his back, and walks down the alley, leaving me standing in the dark. - Lily didn't ask to be assigned to him. Harry Styles is a name whispered like a warning, famous for his ink, infamous for everything else. Brooding. Untouchable. But Lily has a habit of looking too closely. And when she finds something she shouldn't, the line between curiosity and consequence begins to blur. He told her to stay away. She should've listened. - TW: emotional abuse, manipulation, drugs, sex, violence, trauma.

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