Dancing with the Enemy {Liam Payne} (Starting Over)

Chapter 1

"No! No! P-please! Please don't!" I thrash and try to keep enough distance between him and I, but the cuffs around my wrist attached to the chair keep me from moving much.

He inches closer to me and I can feel his breath on my face. He wreaks of alcohol and something else I just can't quite put my finger on. I flinch as he begins to speak in my ear.

"Relax. And let me reassure you, this will not be over quickly and you will not enjoy this." I look into the corner of the poorly lit room to see her sitting in a chair, grinning over at the my battered body and the man hovering over me as she smokes a cigarette.

"How can you sit there? Do something! Please!" I spit at her and thrash once again.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Would you like any refreshments?" I am stirred awake by a over dressed flight attendant with the flakiest smile plastered to her face. Any other time, I would call her out for waking me up, but I mentally thank her for pulling me from my nightmare.

I rub my face and look over at the cart that contained several refreshments. I ask for a coke and willingly pay the outrageous price of four dollars. I push up the small window blind and stare down at the ocean below me. I pull out an old edition of People magazine and read through it several times to pass the time.

*********

"A new place, a new life, a fresh start, remember that." I mumble to myself as I leave the plane and walk towards the baggage claims. After scanning through the conveyor for my bag, I find the front of the airport and manage to hail a cab.

*********

"Excuse me?" I ask the cab driver for the tenth time. His accent was so thick, I could not understand what the hell he was saying. I give him fifty dollars in hopes that it will cover the cost. As he tries to make change, I stop him as I open the door. "Keep the change." I put my side bag over my arm and roll my two suitcases through the door of my apartment complex.

The lobby is mostly black with little accents of color in pictures and pillows. I walk up to the front desk and put my bags down. I ring the bell at least twelve times before a blonde boy with blue eyes comes up and adjusts his tie as he sits down in the seat behind the counter.

"How may I help you today, ma'am?" I am thrown back by his word choice, considering he looks around my age, no older that twenty-three. I shrug it off as just his job and answer his question.

"Um, Lorissa Teska. I am here to grab the key for my new apartment." I state plainly as I place my forearms against the counter, leaning against it. He smiles at me and types a few things into his computer, then turns back to me.

"Yes, I see! Apartment 43, third floor." His voice comes off as very cheery and I smile at his enthusiasm. "I'm going to need to see proof of identification." I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and scavenge through to find my ID or license, which ever comes first. I am suddenly embarrassed of my pink and blue wallet and the mess inside of it. I finally find my license and slide it over the counter to him. He looks from the license, to me, then back to the license.

"American, yeah? That explains your accent." I find it funny that he thinks my voice has an accent when I am struggling to understand his accent, which isn't British. It sounds more Irish and it suites him well.

"Yeah, I just moved here." He leans over the desk and looks at the ground to see only a carrier bag and two suitcases. He looks up at me with an eyebrow raised, surprised by how little I have brought with me. Little does he knows, I managed to cram a wide range of items in these bag, a skill I have learned from moving so much in the states.

"Here is your key. The elevator is just down the hallway on the left." He points down to the long corridor accessorized with many doors, most likely other apartments. A wave of relief washes over me as I realize I won't have to climb three flights of stairs. He chuckles as I release a sigh I didn't know that I was holding. I thank him and wish him a beautiful day and I click the button on the elevator, waiting for the door to open.

********

I don't remember falling asleep last night, but I guess I did. I woke up very energized this morning, considering I didn't even bother unpacking much. When you enter the house, you enter through the living area that has a sleek black couch with white pillows that I replaced with blue pillows with a peacock feather design on them. There is a beautiful glass coffee table and a thirty-two inch TV. Walk past the front room is a kitchen with black marble counters and an industrial sized sink. I bought several appliances in different colors to spruce up the dark marble with the dark three door fridge. Next to the kitchen is a small hallway with a bathroom at the end and a room to the left. The room has a beautiful king-sized four post black and grey bed and a beautiful grey desk and chair in the corner. The overall idea of the house is a modern look, and that's just how I like it.

I get out of bed and look at the clock. It's only seven A.M. Today is my first day of college today and I'm actually kind of nervous. My first class doesn't start until nine, but I believe first impressions are everything.

I dig through my drawers to find my purple jeans that fit very snuggly and a plain white tank-top that I haven't worn yet. I look at my drawers to see all the clothes on the floor from looking for something good to wear. I knew it wouldn't stay clean long. I shove everything back into my drawers and force them shut. I grab my make up bag from my closet and walk towards the bathroom. I apply a light line of eyeliner and some mascara. I decide to put some foundation on a blemish that won't go away, and know it looks invisible. I brush my hair and put it into a low pony tail. I grab my purse and the books needed for my classes.

Before I leave the house, I look one last time in the mirror, deciding to put my hair down, letting my pastel pink hair flow down my back. I turn off all the lights in the house and lock the door and am out the house by eight twenty-three.

*******

I am one of the first ones to class, even the professor wasn't there yet, so I sit down in a seat mid-back towards the left of the room.

"Hello!" I am startled by a bubbly blonde that has sat down next to me and is putting her things on the desk.. Her hair is starting to give me a headache, but I return her polite gesture.

"Hello." I smile at her and she reaches her left hand out to me and I awkwardly shake her hand.

"I'm Meagan, but you can call me Meag." She flashes her extremely bright teeth and I am momentarily blinded.

"Lorissa." I state plainly without looking at her.

"Is it OK if I call you Lori?" She cocks her head a little to the side and smiles again. I've always hated that name, but I don't want to be rude, so I silently nod my head and turn my attention to the front of the room as the professor walks in.

He puts his over sized briefcase on his desk and begins to speak in a low,thick and monotone voice. As he begins to go into the schedule for the semester, I begin to dose until I am awoken by the sound of the old wood door opening. My curious eyes dart to the door as a tall guy enters the room, coffee in hand and face like a zombie. Somebody woke up late.

He looks like the type of guy who doesn't even have a pencil, let alone brains to be in this class. His hair is mostly slicked back, shorter on the sides and longer on the top. His 5 o' clock brought out the edges in his jaw line and. His muscles and what looked like tattoos showed through his short sleeve t shirt and his jeans where semi-skinny with a tear in the knee.

My eyes slowly follow him, gazing as he walks past me. I do not turn around to see where he has sat in fear of him noticing my stare.

The class drags on, seeming never ending, until I feel somethung touching my hair.

*Dedicated to absumere for the cover on the side :)*