My head aches as I force my eyes open this morning. I turn my head toward Harry who is soundly sleeping, and grab my phone off of the night stand. 7:38 a.m. Great. I slam my head back onto the pillow and groan. If only I could just get this stupid cuff off and leave. Then I could go to my bed, and get a good night's sleep for once. I don't know how long I've lain here, but before I know it, Harry's alarm screams at us to wake up. I groan and shove my head under my pillow, waiting for Harry to shut his alarm off, but . . . he doesn't.
"Dang it, Harry! Would you turn that thing off?!" I slam my pillow onto his face, making him wake up immediately. Let me tell you, the look on his face was priceless! He sits up and grabs his phone, pressing 'stop' and then he runs his fingers through his hair. I can't help but think it's hot. Wait. What?! Stop it, Vanity! This guy bit you!
"Ugh . . . " He groans and falls back onto his pillow. His curls are perfectly sprawled out across the pillow and I have to force myself to look away. I have always had issues staring at people. I know it's rude, but what if I'm trying to figure them out? Staring isn't rude, it's like a compliment to the person you're staring at. Well, unless you've got something wrong with you, or they have something wrong with them. I guess it goes both- "Vanity, please! Your thoughts are exhausting." Harry puts his arm over his eyes, his muscles flexed and his white duvet sprawled across his chest.
"If they're so exhausting, then stay out of them." I scoff at his ignorance. I mean, duh. If you don't want to hear me, don't listen. I know I can be annoying, but only when I'm open. And I'm not an open person.
"I've told you, it's not that simple!"
"Yeah? And why not?" I ask, turning to him and leaning on my elbow.
"I'm . . . Ugh . . . Nothing. It's none of your business."
"Um . . . I'm pretty sure sneaking around in my thoughts is none of your business, so why aren't your thoughts any of mine, aye?"
"Because I'm not explaining my thoughts to a pathetic little human." He spits.
I scoff. "Man . . . I bet your fans would just love to hear that! Are all of your fans 'pathetic little humans', Harry? Is that what you call them behind their backs?"
"You leave my fans out of this." He growls.
"Or what? You'll read my mind?! Oh, no!" I wave my hands around dramatically, but then gasp as I'm suddenly being straddled and held to the bed.
"Here's another lesson you don't ever seem to learn, sweetheart. 'Or what' is a very dangerous thing to say around me. Got it?" His breath fans over my face as he talks, and to make everything worse, my cocky side get's the best of me. I spit right in his face, making his face turn dark red with anger, now matching his eyes. Before I know it, there's fangs driven through the skin behind my ear, making me scream bloody murder.
"Harry!" A loud slapping sound is heard and Harry's releases me, flying down, onto the bed. Louis is standing there with a plastic salad bowl in his hands, looking from it to Harry, back and forth. "Harry, dang it! You have a signing today! We have a signing today! You can't drag a dead girl there!" Louis says in a no-duh sort of tone.
"Why not? You guys are dead." I mumble.
Louis looks at me with distress. "Please don't push your luck." He looks at Harry and back at me. I look at Harry and can't help but look away in disgust. His eyes are a crazed red and his lips are stained with my blood. Probably after listening in on my thoughts, Harry licks his lips clean. I lift my hand up to my neck, trying to stop the bleeding. "Get cleaned up. And you better be ready in ten minutes." Louis growls at Harry, then leaves silently.
"Get up. Now." Harry growls, dragging me from the bed and to the bathroom. He washes his face, brushes his hair and then turns to me. He reaches toward my shoulder and I take a step back. A low growl vibrates through his chest as he glares at me. I close my eyes and cringe, waiting for something to happen, but then I feel a warm, wet cloth on my wound. I don't know what he put on that cloth and I'm not sure I want to, but when I lift my head up, it doesn't hurt any more. It's healed. He throws the cloth to the side and drags me back to the bedroom to change.
*♪♫♪♫♪*
"I hope you know that if you try something in front of my fans, I will not hesitate to make you disappear." Harry growls into my ear as we step out of the van, making me stiffen in fear.
"I promise not to pull anything." I mumble, looking at the concrete.
"Now smile. Act like you don't hate everything. Including any of us." Liam faintly smiles at me, using his right hand to cup my cheek and rub his thumb across my skin, giving me chills. Before he pulls his hand away, I lift mine up to hold it in place. How could I hate Liam anyway? He's done nothing to me. I give him a small fake smile and look into his gorgeous brown eyes. How come his are so much prettier than mine? I mean- they're the same color? Liam suddenly chuckles and I give him a confused look. "Your thoughts, love. Your thoughts." He giggles. I blush and look away, dropping my hand and using it to rub my arm nervously.
"Sorry." I can feel the heat in my cheeks as I whisper.
"You're alright, love." He laughs again, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. And I swear I hear a growl from Harry. The scowl sticks on his face until we enter the building.
Paul is standing by the front doors when we enter. I'm surprised to see a big grin on his face until I notice all the boys doing it. Harry yanks on my hand and glances upward. I follow his gaze and suddenly understand, putting a fake smile on my face as well. There are cameras everywhere.
Liam leans down close to me. "They're filming for another future movie." h
He whispers against my war, making me shiver. He should not do that. That's not even right.
"Oh." I mumble. He just chuckles again and pulls away, walking ahead of us. Niall suddenly runs in front of us, grinning. "Niall?" I give him a questioning look with a small smile. He looks so ornery right now.
"That's me." He winks. Then he stops, making a very distracted Harry run right into him. Harry's eyes widen and he looks slightly downward at Niall.
"Whoah, Harry! You eager for some Nialler?" Niall smirks making Harry laugh.
"No." Harry suddenly stops laughing and gives Niall a serious look before bursting into laughter at Niall's hurt look.
"I knew I could make you laugh, Hazza!" Niall cockles, hugging him. "Come on, mate. Let's do this."
A/N
Okay so this chapter kinda sucked but I'm so distracted right now. I'm currently training, because I have American Idol auditions in August and I need to be perfect. This is the last season which means my last chance.
Anyway, if you read this note plz comment "VOCALS"! Thank you so much! :)
Love you guys! xx
-Rae
YOU ARE READING
Handcuffed To An Idiot
FanfictionVanity had a past. She wanted nothing to do with him. Harry had a secret. He wanted to keep her away. Being handcuffed together could only make it harder for them to hide.
