Fights, Camera, Attraction // Zayn Malik

6 [Harry Potter, right?]

“Hit me”.

“Dez, love, I think you've had enough,” Liam warned me, his palm hovering over my shoulder in a protective manner.

“Hit. Me,” I repeated to the bartender. He slid a vodka shot towards me and I caught it, tipping my head back and downing it in one. I winced as it burned my throat but it made me feel light.

“For God's sake, Desiree!” Liam exclaimed, “No more”.

I was about to request for another, but Liam grabbed my arm and pulled me off the stool. I stumbled off it and lost my footing. He held me from under my arms and hoisted me up before I fell over completely.

“Jesus, Dez, you're completely out of it,” he muttered. The music was still pounding out a beat that made my head ache. I noticed Liam turn back to the bar and swipe something up from it. I realized it was my clutch purse. “You nearly forgot this. Do you want me to keep hold of it? It seems like a hassle to carry it about all night, especially when you're in this...state”.

“Thank you, Li,” I held my hand over my heart, “You're so nice to me!”

He laughed and muttered something to himself along the lines of 'emotional drunk'. I grabbed his hand, my eyes wild with excitement. “Let's dance!”

He groaned but reluctantly complied, allowing me to drag him to the dance floor. I'm no dancer, but the alcohol running through my veins seemed to give me some sort of new-found confidence, as I let the music control my body. I was giggling hysterically but was unsure why exactly. I felt like I was floating – I felt good. Liam sighed from beside me.

“I can't do this”. At that, he left the dance floor and disappeared out of my line of vision. I shrugged to myself and continued to dance, swaying my hips and lifting my hair up with my arms. At that moment, I felt two hands either side of waist and another body press against mine. He was only a few inches taller than me, not even close to hitting six foot. I observed his arms either side of my waist and noticed he was wearing a blue flannel shirt, the sleeves slightly rolled up. I realized it was the boy Zayn was talking to earlier. I turned around to face him. He had black hair scraped messily back, but a few strands hung over his forehead. Underneath his thick eyebrows lurked two dark blue eyes, and he had a long nose and prominent jawline. He was very attractive and I instantly recognised him as Daniel Radcliffe.

“Hey,” he smiled seductively, “Desiree Iverson, right?”

“Yah hah. Harry Potter, right?”

He chuckled lightly, “Absolutely. Wanna dance?”

Ah, the perks of being single...

“Sure, why not?”

I turned back around as he grabbed hold of my waist and I began grinding into him to the thumping beat of the music. After the song ended I turned back to face him and he smiled charmingly at me. “Fancy a drink?” I ignored Liam's earlier warning and nodded eagerly. “Okay, stay right here and I'll be back in a minute”. He pushed his way through the sweaty, intoxicated bodies and disappeared from my sight.

“What are you doing with him?” I heard someone ask from behind me. I undoubtedly recognised the slow, deep voice belonging to Harry.

“Harreh!” I exclaimed as I spun around to face him. I attacked him into a hug but instead of returning it, he pulled me back at held me by my shoulders at an arms length.

“What are you doing with him?” he repeated, even slower than usual.

“Just dancing. What's the fuss, Curly Fry?” I teased.