One Shots » muke

My Killer ~K

Serial Killer!Luke

Harry Styles is a freaking sweetheart and would never do this ITS ALL FAKE ((:

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Luke's POV

He is beautiful.

His green eyes are beyond comparison to any earthly thing, because they hold constellations of unfathomable perfection.

His skin is so pale. So pale and so delicate. So breakable yet flawless. Probably smooth as well as warm.

His hair was fire. A red and bright contrast against his porcelain complexion. It always fell so right against against his carefully sculpted face.

He is beautiful, and I want him to be mine.

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"Can I get a hot chocolate please?" I asked, leaning against the counter of the empty coffee shop.

Michael looked up, startled by my voice since he didn't hear me come in. I just happened to have mastered the art of silence.

"Oh, hey Luke! You came back!" He beamed, showing off his bright smile.

I returned the contagious gesture. "I always do."

Michael nodded happily and picked up a cup, scrawling my name across it before preparing to make the beverage.

"You look pretty today," I commented while my eyes never left the red haired boy.

His cheeks flamed, filling the cup up with the warm chocolate. "Th-Thank You," Michael squeaked. 

A smirk spread across my lips as he handed me the drink. I took a sip of it, peering at him over the rim of my cup.

So badly did I want to hold the smaller boy in my arms and protect from all this bull shit. I wanted to make him feel beautiful because I'm the only one who could truly do that.

But Michael belonged to someone else...for now.

He had been dating this guy for a few months now, Michael being someone who could never say no in fear of hurting someone's feelings. I know he feels uncomfortable with this boy. How? Because I watch them.

Harry will never treat Michael the way he deserves. He's too disconnected with his feelings. He's even cheated on Michael many of times with another man.

Despite the fact that I've brought this to the younger's attention, he refuses to leave Harry.

Harry is a complication, and I take pride in removing such things.

"When do you get off work?" I asked.

"20 minutes." Michael began wiping off the tables and busying himself with various other chores. Obviously in a rush to get done with it.

The pale boy was moving so fast while mopping that he slipped. I easily caught his small frame in my arms, a soft shriek falling from his pink lips.

I chuckled and lifted him back onto his feet, smiling to myself when I felt him shiver under my touch. "You should be more careful, love." I murmured.

Michael blushed furiously before placing the mop back in its bucket. "S-Sorry."

After a few more minutes of cleaning, Michael rushed to the back to change. I knew I had to make him mine. He is everything I've ever wanted.

The red haired boy appeared moments later wearing black skinny jeans and a white sweater that revealed his collar bones. He smiled shyly at me as he lead me to the front of the shop.