Zayn
I took a sip from the cup that I drank from, the liquid immediately burning me as it ran down my throat. I spotted another guy, around my age, sitting not far away from me. He also had a drink in his hand, but he looked bored to death. His eyes were trained on the cup he held, as he swiveled the cup around with his fingers on its coaster. He suddenly looked up and he gazed around the club until he spotted me looking at him. Frowning, he turned around to check that it was him I was looking at but when he realized it was, he shrugged and turned back round and went back to his cup.
I wanted to go and say hi. Like him, I was bored too. My group of friends had managed to skip off to the dance floor, leaving me alone. I wasn't in the mood for dancing anyway. I had just stood up when somebody behind me cleared their throat, their strangely large hand cupping my shoulder and gently turning me around with their strength.
I blinked when I saw the person standing in front of me, gulping dryly as my body became tense. I knew this man. Well, not personally. I had heard of him before. He had gotten into a few fights before in this club and they had ended badly. He was known of his short temper, his fights, and his reputation. Safe to say he wasn't well liked...but he was good-looking, I'd give him that. His chest was firm and strong, broad shoulders and deep green eyes. His hair was curly, by the looks of it but he wore a beannie, a few strands falling at his ears from the hat. A plain white t-shirt hugged his muscular body and black, slouchy jeans fitted his lower half.
Just by looking at him, I could feel myself growing a little hard. I blame the alcohol. Damn alcohol. I bit my lip, clutching my cup a little tighter in my hand as I stared at him. Unconsciously, his hand reached out to gently stroke my teach. I frowned up at him, he was a couple of inches taller. "You're so attractive when you bite you lip, you know that?" he smirked and I rolled my eyes, stepping back from him but he only took one step closer instead. God, he was getting annoying.
"Dance with me," he muttered and I cocked an eyebrow. I thought he was straight? What with all the girls fainting after him. I'd rather not make a fool of myself, thanks. "No." I replied back bluntly, in attempt to push him away. It didn't work. "I saw you staring at that guy earlier," he pointed out, nodding toward the man who was still sitting there, lost in a daze. I turned back to him. "Well done Sherlock, want a medal?" I asked sarcastically but his eyebrows knotted together. "You're not gonna be anyone elses but mine," he spoke harshly. I gaped at him. So he wasn't straight, then? Shocker.
His hand suddenly gripped my wrist tightly and he pulled me onto the center of the dance floor. "I told you I don't want to dance with you." I spat angrily but he just chuckled darkly, clicking his tongue at my patience. "It won't be so bad," he whispered in my ear and I sighed, giving up. Someone banged into me as we stopped to face each other, causing me to be extremely close to this stranger. His breath tickled my mouth, shivers running down my spine at the thought of him kissing me.
"What's your name?" he asked firstly. "Zayn." I replied and he smiled. A pure, Jenine smile. "Harry," he said and shrugged, hopefully giving him the impression that I couldn't care less. But his lips just moved closer to me and I froze, unable to do or say anything. They lingered just below my ear, on the crook of my neck before he gently nipped the flesh, licking over it a couple of times. Holy sh- I moaned loudly, causing a deep chuckle to erupt form Harry's throat. I hate him. I really do. I've only knowing this guy for five minutes and already he's given a hickey. Who even does that? A nutter, that's who.
"Turn around," he demanded suddenly and I crossed my arms across my chest, protesting. "Now," he growled and when he knew he wasn't getting a respond, he grabbed hold of my shoulders and spun me round himself and with his hand pressed firmly on my torso, he pressed his hips against my behind. Oh, God. I was now grinding with Harry. Who I had just met. What next, having sex in the boys toilets? I hope it wouldn't come to that. I hadn't even kissed him yet- the thought made blush.
"See? Told you dancing with me wouldn't be that bad." he pointed out and I didn't bother responding, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that I was actually enjoying myself. Just a little. When it started to get busy, the dance floor that was, he reluctantly pulled me away and we headed back to my abandoned cup in which the bar tender hadn't even bothered to remove from the table yet. Good. I needed a few more drinks to calm down my nerves.
"Give me your phone." he insisted huskily and I patted my pockets, in attempt to find it. I brought it out of my back pocket, feebly handing it to him and I watched him carefully programmed his number in my phone before texting himself my number. He handed it back to me, clearing his throat again as he did so. "That hickey suits you...Zayn." he added with a smirk and casually strolled off as if nothing had happened.
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So here's the Dark Zarry I've been promising you these past couple of days. Let me know what you think, feedback would be much appreciated. Thank you :) x