BLOOD AND HEART

15 | BETRAYED

N    Y    X

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"Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder"
.    .    .

"Hello gorgeous," his deep husky voice came into my senses as if he was destined to be the only source of relief in my life. I sighed in relief as I looked into his magnificent dark brown eyes. "You appear to be in a hurry," he said. "Let this handsome stranger buy you a drink." His arrogance was unabated.

I scoffed "No, thanks"

"Well, well, well, if this isn't the reaper, himself" an unknown voice said. I turned around and saw a man in his late 40s, I assumed. He has some strands of grey hair and a luxurious gold wristwatch. He was wearing a dark red colour tuxedo.

"Anthony" Zayn greeted. Anthony smirked. Or should I say an evil smirk?

His gazes fell on me and his smirk grew larger "And Reaper isn't alone," he said "You look gorgeous, mia cara, where are you heading at too soon?" His smirk and the way he said those words told me that this man was bad news.

"Er" I hesitated "Thanks, bye" whenever someone compliments me, I found myself being muted because people barely complimented me. As I bid them bye, I began to rush away from them.

"Wait up, mia cara, I asked you something, where are you going?" He demanded and I instantly stopped.

I turned around and replied unsurely "Heading back to the place where I stay"

"And where do you stay?" he raised his eyebrows as he asked, making me huff in annoyance.

"At the place that I'm heading to" I replied foolishly. But why the fuck he cares about where I live.

"And what place is that?" He asked again, I was mentally chanting and begging my IED not to kick in.

"It is the place that I am supposed to stay" again foolishly replied making him grimaced. I didn't even know what the hell I was saying, I had no idea if I was saying the sentence correctly or not.

"What?" He questioned.

"What?" And I repeated his word as I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

"She looks like a kid, Anthony and you know we don't do kids," Zayn said with a smirk, making me irritated.

"Yeah, well now this kid needs to leave" I hissed and walked out.

I flopped down on a sofa and sighed. I wondered who was that mischievously dickheaded man. Zayn was friends or whatever with many people but I didn't know his friends or whatever was a pain in the behind. I also didn't know why he was called Reaper. I didn't know many things.

"Hey" an unknown semi-attractive man greeted me with a semi-happy smile.

"Hi" I greeted back with my semi cheerful smile.

"I'm Mike," he said.

"And I'm a 22-year-old, kid" I sighed making him chuckle. Those words 'She looks like a kid, Anthony and you know we don't do kids' by Zayn were popping up in my brain again and again as if they were taunting me. Mocking me. What the hell did he mean by 'we don't do kids' like I would let him do me. Gross. But why did that hurt my feelings? Maybe because I didn't expect Zayn to behave like a jerk? He always behaved like a jerk! Or maybe I was a delusional 'kid'.

"Never saw you here," Mike said pulling me out of my thoughts. I could smell and notice that he was drunk however he was in his senses. His eyes were bloodshot while his hair looked like a bird's nest. He, just like others, was wearing a tux, a luxurious watch on his right hand and shiny shoes.