You can't save everybody | 1/5

84 3 0
                                    

Happy Lowman x OC 

Nights at the club were always great, but not as great as this one. This night was savage; it was pretty obvious that Sons knew how to party. Music was loud and booze was plentiful, and after another round of tequila shots, there you were, observing them with a stupid drunken smile in your face. You wasn't sure at the beginning, when you first moved to Charming, but you liked them. They were your family. Or the closest thing to a family you had ever known.

Your gaze met with Happy's eyes, who had a croweater sitting on his lap. That woman was dynamite, she was one of the prettiest, and had made clear her preference for Happy. Even so, the passionate way she kissed his neck was not to your liking. After a few minutes of awkward eye contact, he decided to push her aside and walked towards you.

"Are you having fun?", you asked him.

"I am"

At that time, he had his hands on your hips and his lips dangerously close to yours. You weren't his Old Lady; not even his girl. The first time he brought you to the clubhouse, he told his brothers you were a friend. His exact words were "someone you can trust", but your relationship was much deeper than just that.

Without saying any other word, he kissed you softly. He looked all tough, but he liked that kind of kisses. Hardly anyone would think that Happy could be delicate, but you knew it well. You swore you could have melted on his arms sometimes. But this time wasn't one of them.

"I'm not gonna fuck you, Hap", you murmured.

"Why?", he asked you with his raspy voice.

"That croweater had touched you everywhere by now. You even have remnants of her red lipstick on your neck", you said as he put more distance between both. "I don't eat leftovers".

His grimace didn't change at all; it was as impassive as always.

"So, I better go", he suggested.

You didn't answer to that. It was pointless. You wanted him to stay and enjoy the rest of the party together, talk with his brothers and company, have fun, drink more... But what Happy wanted was different, so you just nodded and let him go. And he left for the dorms, but not before putting an arm around the shoulders of that croweater who willingly accompanied him.

It was nothing that hadn't happened a dozen times before. You knew him and his way of life. And maybe you weren't much better. You tried to convince yourself that it didn't hurt anymore, but it was a bit disappointing and always left a bitter taste.

It was a long time ago when you first met Happy. Now you could say it was a funny story, more or less. Someone had killed one of his brothers in Tacoma and Happy broke into your house at night accusing you of being the murderer. Actually, it was pretty scary to see Happy in your living room with a loaded gun ready to pull the trigger after getting your confession. But you were innocent. Apparently, the offender who shot the Son was driving your car, that's how they thought you were guilty.

"The car isn't mine", you assured him. "Is new. Stolen".

"Liar"

"If I wanted to make up an excuse, I would have chosen a better one, dickhead", you said. "Yesterday, someone tipped me off about an abandon car not far from here. My intentions were to give it a coat of paint, make a few changes, and sell it again. I need the money, that's all. I haven't killed anybody".

"Who?", he asked you. Since the beginning, you learnt that chatty wasn't a good adjective to describe Happy.

"Who what?"

"Who told you about the car".

Although he was deadly serious, you smirked slightly.

"I know how you guys work. You hate rats", you warned him. "And I ain't no rat".

SONS OF ANARCHY | SHORT STORIESWhere stories live. Discover now