The tyranny
The violent streets
Deprived of all that we're blessed with
And we can't get enough, no

"I told you not to get me drunk." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Shut up! None of us are lightweights with alcohol, just drink the goddamn shot!" I chuckled, throwing my hands into the air.

"You're literally trying to get me drunk!" Harry smiled, arguing back playfully. "Don't know 'bout you, but it seems to me that you don't know how a real date works."

"Oh, yeah? Teach me." I motioned with my head.

"Well..." He arched his eyebrows, putting down the shot glass on the table. "First of all, you're supposed to eat. Alcohol isn't involved, unless we're talking about wine or something fancy. And then, I take you home and we fuck."

"Sounds like a plan to me, let's get to the part where we fuck." I nodded, making Harry laugh.

"You're something else." He snorted, looking down at his plate.

I hadn't been eating much, just picking on the food every now and then. I wasn't really hungry, but when was I anyways? I knew eventually Harry would get tired and shove the fork down my throat, but I was truly feeling just fine.

We had been sitting here for around forty five minutes and basically, all we had done was talk. We had teased each other every now and then... and by that I mean we had been teasing each other throughout the whole dinner.

Harry was so cute, I thought back to day one when I absolutely despised him and the only thing I wanted to tell that Natalie was to get her shit together... she had no idea what was expecting her. It had been six weeks since then, it felt like a fucking year.

I found out Harry's mother had died too... and that's when I brought up everything about his father. He didn't exactly enjoy that part of the conversation, but he made sure to keep a chill facade. Not exactly convincing though.

I told him who his father really was and he ran to the bathroom to throw up. Of course he wouldn't have wanted him to die just like that, he was still his father after all, but he was as disgusted as I was and I was glad he was finally getting to know the whole truth.

I knew he didn't hate me anymore about it, but I just needed to tell him. I couldn't bear leaving with Harry knowing that he thought I had killed his father just because I felt like it.

The dinner wasn't conventional, it was around two a.m. and we hadn't even finished eating, but that's what I loved about it. We talked about a lot of stuff, mostly to get to know each other, and I felt a little bit closer to him now. We mostly annoyed each other though.

But I enjoyed it. It made me feel normal for once, like I couldn't ruin what we had going on. For a moment, I pictured us as a regular couple... I don't know, maybe we met in college and we fell in love.

"You know, I have a deal." Harry smirked, showcasing his two dimples.

He looked especially beautiful tonight, his face was glowing and there were little sparks in his eyes. He was genuinely happy and seeing him like this, acting all cute, was making my heart flutter.

The yellow t-shirt looked so fucking good on him and the way his nails were painted black was driving me insane. I don't know when he got the time to get a manicure, but that added to the way his rings contrasted against his skin was making really sinful things pop up in my mind.

Yes, maybe I was a bit horny and yes, I was aware he had fucked me twice only twenty four hours ago, but the motherfucker was addictive and something was telling me he knew. He wasn't even trying but still, he looked so fucking hot.

"I'm listening." I propped my elbows on the table one each side of my plate.

"I'll fuck you just how you like it..." Harry mimicked my actions, leaning a bit closer till our noses were inches away. "If you eat at least half of your plate."

Of course he'd say something like that.

I huffed like a little kid, pouting. My plate was nearly full and I felt like I was gonna be sick if I ate this. I knew this was for my health, but I just didn't enjoy it and I wasn't in the mood of purging tonight.

Harry's offer was tempting and I had to give him credit for that, it was a smooth move. Maybe I could do this, I was a bit stronger than I thought I was and a piece of lasagna wasn't going to harm me... right?

"Fine," I finally spoke up. "I can't promise anything, alright?"

"It's lasagna for dick, baby. You decide." He winked, repressing a cocky smile.

I tried to act angry, but it was impossible not to adore him. He had a sunshine smile and he was a sunshine himself, so I grabbed my fork and stared suspiciously at my food before I stuck a piece in my mouth.

To be honest, it tasted better than I expected. I still wasn't used to the way the food felt on my mouth, but slowly, my plate started emptying. I actually ate more than just half of it, I was nearly finishing when I started feeling sick to the stomach.

"And?" Harry raised his eyebrows, intertwining his fingers together.

"And... I feel sick." I leaned backwards on the chair.

"Just don't think about it," He shrugged. "I won't stop caring, darling, so you'll have to eat or no more sex for you."

Well, I had to laugh. Even though he was trying to keep a straight face while he mentioned the last bit, I could see a playful glint in his eyes. It was funny how he was using his own dick to bribe me and it was even funnier how I was actually complying.

I liked that he cared, even if it was a bittersweet feeling. Zayn cared too, but just not like this. He didn't make a big deal of it and I knew deep down he didn't really give a fuck. I guess he was just being polite.

I was slowly starting to realize everything that wasn't going right in our relationship. I remember every time I told him to come over and he said he was too lazy to, I thought it was okay because I loved him but now I was starting to believe maybe he didn't want to spend time with me.

Or when he would sleep on the far end of the bed, not even the slightest contact... just little things that would normally go by unnoticed, but they were starting to hit me like a sack of bricks: maybe Zayn really didn't care about me.

I knew he loved me unconditionally, that was easy to prove, but he didn't show it and that just led me to believe his love towards me had become a habit; he was so used to it that he stopped trying.

It hurt me to think like this, but I just couldn't sugarcoat it anymore. I loved Zayn, or at least I used to love him, but now that I got an outside look to the relationship, I realized how blind I was being.

The fact he had traveled all the way to Barcelona, risking his life only because he missed me, was the only thing preventing me from having a breakdown over our past relationship. I knew Zayn and I wouldn't last forever, but I guess there was a small part of me that wished we could at least still be friends.

He was a really good guy and he'd eventually find someone who was meant to be, but I couldn't help the annoying pit in my stomach everytime I thought about him. He didn't deserve what I was doing to him, but I just couldn't stop now that I'd started.

"You're phone's been ringing for the past thirty seconds." Harry called my attention, making me snap back to reality only to notice the shrill alarm of my phone going off.

I stood up and walked towards the couch. It surprised the fuck out of me when I read the caller ID since it was Zayn calling. What a coincidence.

"Zayn?" I picked up, hearing some shifting on the other side of the line but no response. "Hello?"

"Hello."

Well, that definitely wasn't Zayn.

"Who the fuck are you?" I raised my voice, feeling my muscles tensing and my pulse starting to pick up pace.

"Calm down, sweetheart. Mr. Malik's with me," The man chuckled, a cold, horrifying laugh that made a weird chill go down my spine. "There's a bit of blood on his face, but I think he'll be fine."

"Don't fucking 'sweetheart' me and answer my fucking question!" I yelled, feeling Harry's intense eyes burning on the back of my head. "Who are you and what the fuck did you do with Zayn?"

"It doesn't matter who I am." He growled. "Zayn's fine, he's unconscious, but he's with us. We don't have anything against him."

"Then why the fuck is he unconscious?" I frowned, looking down at Harry who was looking up at me. "Listen, you're not making any fucking sense and you're getting on my nerves already, so if you don't mind, start talking before I decide to act up."

I guess the yelling woke up Alissa and Alex, because both of them were running down the stairs almost immediately. Alex was wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, and Alissa, a very big hoodie. There flushed faces and swollen lips were telling me stuff, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh at the moment.

They had a silent conversation with Harry while I kept talking with this man, but he wasn't giving me any useful information. He was just wasting my time, repeating over and over again that Zayn was knocked out but alive.

My heart was hammering dangerously against my chest and I felt like I was about to have a panic attack. Someone had kidnapped and beat the shit out of Zayn and I was a hundred percent sure it was all my fault.

I had no idea who the hell could be targeting him and my brain was too slow to think right now, but it clearly wasn't good. The only idea that popped in my mind was Mort Negra, but no, this wasn't the way they operated.

I was struggling to keep my composure, but it was starting to get really fucking hard, "Let him go."

"I'll let him go when you and Mr. Styles decide to show up," He chuckled cynically.

"What do you want from us!" I started tugging on my hair a bit too harshly, feeling the aching on my scalp start to build up.

The wild look behind Harry's eyes was only making me feel worse, I already felt sick from what I had eaten and this thrown on top of it all wasn't exactly a good addition. Alex and Alissa looked confused as fuck too.

"I guess it won't be any surprise if I tell you I want you dead." The low, cold voice that made the hair on the back of my neck bristle spoke again.

I could hear echoing in his side of the line, as if he was in a tunnel or somewhere ample enough. He hadn't mention anything about their whereabouts and I was officially going crazy, if anything happened to Zayn then I would blame it on myself for the rest of my life.

"Who the fuck are you?" I repeated, feeling my blood running cold in my veins.

A sigh followed by the sound of an exclamation was all I could hear. Then, metal against metal, like chains being dragged on the floor. Splashes of water were heard too.

"Look, our buddy here is waking up," He ignored my previous statement with fake care in his voice. "If you and Styles come to the abandoned subway station of Pasco Sur in an hour, I'll be kind. I'll know if you brought someone with you, so please do us all a favour and don't bring Mr. Turner and Ms. Chambers."

Next thing I know, I could hear the beep on the other side of the line telling me the phone call was over.