"Think you can take me?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Are you doubting me?" She answered.
//
Natalie Perkins, born in London. The FBI is after her for the assassination of fourteen men. All of them brutally murdered one day of the week, all of them left wi...
There's no more stars to find And I'm too far behind And I'd love to let you go I'd love to let you go You're all that's on my mind
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The flight to New York wasn't peaceful in the least.
We arrived at the hotel in Mar del Plata about thirty minutes later than we were supposed to and Alissa gave us a long-ass lecture about how we should've let them know if we were going to be delayed, not before asking me that one 'do you have lipstick on?'.
Of course we didn't tell her what actually happened, but I could see Harry trying to hold back his laughter. Alex sure noticed though, he squinted his eyes at us and looked in between Harry and I, then to my lips and then to the funny position I was standing on.
My ass hurt like fuck.
Harry made me come three times and he didn't hold back at all when he fucked me, it was like he was seriously trying to rail the sadness out of me and it worked... momentarily.
It was fun though, Harry kept making fun of me while I shifted on my seat, trying to find a position where the soreness didn't annoy me. I acted mad but it was hard keeping a straight face, so I decided to joke with him.
That... until it all came stumbling into my brain once more.
I felt so emotionally drained, but yet my brain kept working really fast, I could barely keep up with myself. I needed some rest from everything, someone to hug me and tell me everything was going to be fine.
The minute we were drowned in silence, the image of Zayn with a bullet in his forehead slapped me in the face again. I stopped myself from crying because I didn't want to be weak, but it was so hard that I thought about the possibility of just asking Harry to run away with me.
To finally put an end to this bullshit.
I'd been thinking so hard about it, of just dropping everything and moving to some country we don't even know... fuck, that was all I wanted. But then again, I didn't want to give up on this and I didn't even know why.
I had plenty of time to think about everything that happened this past month and I came to the conclusion that I'd finally phone my parents, let them know I was fine. I was scared as shit, but it was time to stop being a pussy once and for all.
I knew Harry would back me up with whatever I chose, but it still made me uneasy thinking about facing my parents after so long. It was hard wrapping my head around the fact that this all started almost two months ago, it felt like a fucking decade.
We were now in New York already, staying at one of Louis' many properties with countless rooms and five or six bathrooms on each story. That motherfucker was so rich, it should be illegal.
I was on the couch with Alex, overthinking as usual. We weren't even saying anything, I had my head propped on his shoulder and he was drawing lazy patterns with his finger on the inside of my arm, right where my veins could be seen faintly.
