Prisoner In My Own Body

6.) Failed Escape

The song I Want was thumping quite loudly in my ears as I woke up groggily.

“Could somebody please shut that off?” I say in a hoarse voice. I have a huge headache. I rub my temples with both hands slowly, the events of a couple hours ago cloudy in my mind. I’m still backstage. That would explain the music, I think, recalling a few important details from earlier. I look around, noticing the room was a little different. A small snack table, with Harry’s concert clothes here and there.

Then it fully hit me: I was the only living soul in the room. Now would be the perfect time to escape, don’t you think Soph? I assume getting up wobbly. Trembling slightly, I head for the door that looked like a possible escape.

My heart skips a beat as I grab and turn the handle slowly, glad but surprised it wasn’t locked. 

Harry wouldn’t be that inconsiderate wouldn’t he? I mean, he keeps claiming I’m his so he wouldn’t possibly give me the chance to escape. Or maybe he’d think I’d sleep the whole way through... I deliberated inwardly, thinking there was actually a catch in all this. Bah. The worst that could happen is that he catches me again, and fucks me all over. I shivered at the unpleasant thought, my thighs agreeing that it wouldn’t be pleasant if he caught me.

Taking my courage with both hands, I peek outside the door. I look on both sides of the long corridor, getting a little excited when no one appears to be in sight. 

I carefully close the door of my “prison” behind me, before tiptoeing my way to an exit side to the right side of the hall. 

My entire body was practically bombarding me with spasms of pain and muscle aches, but I had to continue my escape and ignore all the painful throbbing. I hear the dim ending of their song. Oh fuck! I boost myself and run down the rest of the hallway before bursting inside the exit door. The walls around me were throbbing with the cheering of the crowd, as well as One Direction’s cheerful goodbye. I hear a door open. I panick as their voices get clearer and closer as they get off the stage. 

I stumble down a very narrow staircase, my heart beating erratically in my chest. The inevitable happened; I tripped on my own feet, which sent me flying off the stairs and to the floor. I closed my eyes in fear, but someone stopped my fall, catching me with both arms.

“Oomph.” I open my eyes in surprise and shock. My eyes lock with mesmerising blue ones I would know anywhere. 

“What the he—” I cut Niall brusquely, kissing him passionately to silence him. I feel him relax slightly in my arms and respond to the kiss. “Aren’t. You. Supposed. Ugh. To be upstairs?” He asks between feverous kisses. He removes my scarf and starts kissing my neck, sucking and licking everywhere he could. I hear him groan, and push me into the wall. His hands grab my waist, his pelvis pressed against mine in arousal. 

“You are such a naughty girl Soph, you know that.” He moans, grinding harder against my body. I only pull him closer to body, praying that Harry wouldn’t appear at the top of the staircase. Brusquely, Niall stopped touching me altogether, panting softly. “I should bring you to Harry, right now.” He says very quietly, as if reading my thoughts.

“Please don’t! He’ll kill me for trying to escape. I’ll do anything!” I plead. He sighs, passing his hands in his hair. He carefully grabs my face in his hands, looking in my eyes lovingly, but with another feeling I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “Fine. I won’t tell him. But you’ll have to take care of another problem for me.”

“Which is?” I ask hesitantly. He pressed his body touching mine once more, and this time, I felt his hardness poking in my stomach.

“Let me make love to you.” He whispered, tossing a strand of hair out of my face. I was astounded.

“Please Niall. Don’t make me do that. Anything but that.” I beg wide eyed.

“It’s either that, or I’ll go get Harry and watch him fuck you to shreds.” His voice had taken a slightly angrier tone. Seeing he had scared me, his features softened a bit, and he took me by the hand. “Come,” he ushers, pulling me with him. He drags me back through the door where he came in, and we were faced with another corridor filled with dull grey doors. He opens one, which I assumed was his, pushes me gently inside and closes the door behind him. 

It looked exactly like the room where I was earlier, except the buffet of food was slightly larger, and Niall’s stuff was sprawled everywhere. 

Without wasting any time, the Irish boy crushed his lips on mine, making me fall on the sofa. I couldn’t help responding to his soft lips, moaning and bucking my hips against his.