Strangers (a Harry Styles fanfiction)

Payton wakes up from a really weird dream. It felt so real. He felt so real. But vampires don't exist, right?

What happens when an extremely hot and mysterious guy moves into her apartment?
Why doesn't he eat? Where does he go?
And why is she falling for him?


2. Unknown guest


Chapter 2-    Payton's P.O.V     The faint sound of chirping birds woke me from my nightmare. I opened my eyes to blinding sunlight and pulled the covers over my head as I groaned.    I had a terrible sleep. I dreamt that I got bit by a vampire while I was on my run.    The weird thing is, it felt extremely real.    His voice seemed sadistic, yet it was warm and comforting.   His touch was as cold as ice, yet it felt so warm to me.   The way he moved, so gracefully, was so surreal, and that immediately sealed my mental deal that it was a dream.    Besides, I woke up in my bed so I couldn't have walked home if I fainted.    Right?   I threw the covers off of myself and sat up, slipping my feet into my comfy morning slippers.    I trudged over to my door and lazily pulled it open, revealing a bright white hallway.    The cream colored walls reflected the suns light as they gleamed.   I slowly walked over to the kitchen and immediately opened the fridge.    I had recently stocked up on food so it was practically full.    I pulled out some milk and poured myself some cereal.    Special K. Keepin it real.   As I went to grab a spoon, I noticed a slip of paper on the counter.    It read : "Payton, I'm going to be gone for the next few days so please take care of yourself."    I snorted.   "At 10:30 there will be a guest arriving. I've rented out your room so that we could get some extra money. He'll be bringing everything he needs, including a bed. So just be ready for 10:30.  Thanks,  Mom"   Are you joking?    Of course my mom would rent out MY room of all the rooms in the house..   And it's a boy?   Great, there goes my virginity in the next few days. Lets just hope he's not a rapist.   I glanced over at the clock and it read 10:08.   My eyes widened and I quickly ate the rest of my cereal and stuck the bowl in the sink.    I brushed my teeth and washed my face in a record time of five minutes.    I then scurried into my room and cleaned it up a little.    I grabbed a loose pink tank top and a pair of jean shorts and quickly pulled them on.    I turned around to my desk and grabbed my makeup, hairbrush and straightener as I looked over at the clock once more.    10:18   Go Payton Go! I cheered in my head as I applied mascara and eyeliner faster than usual.   I ran the brush through my long brown hair several times before finally getting the tangled mess under control.    I quickly re-straightened my hair from yesterday and pulled back my bangs into a sidebraid.    As soon as I finished, I heard a soft knock on the door.    "Coming!" I shouted as I got up from my chair and speed-walked towards the door.    I placed my hand on the knob, pulled on a 'smile' and yanked the door open.   There stood a gorgeous boy.   Tall and handsome, with long legs and unusually large hands shoved into the pockets of his low-strung jeans.   A white t shirt hung across his torso, but it was tight enough for me to secretly observe his toned stomach.    He had a mess of long, dark, brown curls that were sweeped across his forehead and the cutest dimples at the corners of his mouth.    The one thing that hit me the most were his eyes. A dark, mysterious green and full of things I couldn't quite read.    He smiled faintfully and I smiled back.    "Hi! You must be my new 'roomie'?" I greeted him politely, putting air quotations marks at the word roomie.    He nodded slightly, his eyes moving down towards his shoes.   Okay, awkward.    "Can I come in?" He asked.    Woah, his voice was deep. And husky.    And very attractive.    "Of course." I smiled as I gestured for him to walk in.    He nodded his head and grabbed his bag as he walked in, towing it behind him.    I looked outside and noticed a mattress lying on the ground beside a large cardboard box.    "Do you want me to get those?" I asked politely.    He shook his head.    "Okay.." I replied quietly.    I had a short mental argument deciding what I should say to him.    I eventually decided to ask him if I could help and show him around.    He denied my offer for help once again so I just have him a quick tour of the apartment.    "This is my-our room," I said correcting myself and gesturing towards my door.    "Kitchen, bathroom, living room... Yeah." I finished showing him around and he simply nodded and turned around to retrieve the rest of his things.   "Oh and if you need anything just... Ask." I turned around but he was already out the door.    Hopefully he won't be this, awkward.   I slumped down onto the smooth black couch in the living room and whipped out my phone.    Ali needs to know about him.   I went to turn it on and gasped as I noticed a long crack along my screen.    "My baby.." I whispered, holding my phone in both hands.    How the hell did this happen?    My poor phone... It doesn't deserve this.    I guess I could see it as a battle scar. To show all the time it helped me through awkward situations and problems.    Yeah. A battle scar. I have a warrior phone.    I chuckled lowly at my weirdness and turned it on to text my friend Ali.    'A hot guy moved into our apartment. My room. He's really weird and quiet but whatever. You should come over.'    I hit the send button confidently and impatiently waited for a reply.    I sat on the couch, my legs sprawled along  the cushions comfortably.    I was quietly relaxing for a little until I heard banging coming from my room.    It sounded like metal being hit together.    A low grunt was heard and some mumbling, before I heard a thump and some more clanking of the metal.    I got up cautiously and strolled over to my room, peeking through the door.    The boy stood in front of his mattress, holding two dark metal bars in his hands.    His face was red and his fists were clenched tightly around the poles he gripped.    Around the mattress were more similar poles, of different sizes, a few boxes and a duffel bag.    "Need help?" I asked quietly, letting myself in.    Letting myself in? It's my room! I can come in no need to let myself into my own territory thank you very much.    He looked at me first with surprise, probably from my lack of subtleness and then his expression softened, acknowledging my offer.   His muscles relaxed and he nodded his head, gesturing to the mess of metal around his mattress with his hands.    "How do I do this?" He asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone.    "Did you read the instructions?" I asked curiously.    "The what?" He turned towards me, almost bewildered.   I snorted loudly before bending over to pick up a large piece of paper that I believed was the instructions.    "These." I said, handing them to him.    "Oh."    He took them in his hands and quickly read through them.    I watched him place the paper on my desk and start to build the bed frame.    Piece by piece, he assembled the bed.    After about 15 minutes, he stood back from the bed and put his hands on his hips.    He smirked confidently and let out a happy sigh.    I sat on my bed, watching him. Occasionally looking down at my slippers or checking for a reply from Ali.   Still nothing.    I found myself staring at him quite frequently.    I mean, hey, he's gorgeous.    While he was building I just-so-happened to notice that he had a very nice butt.    And really long legs.    They're probably more than half my size!    I looked up at him and he turned around, extending a long arm towards me.    "I'm Harry." He greeted warmly.   "Payton." I smiled, shaking his cold hand.    He nodded his head and shove his hands in his pockets once again.    His bed was finished and placed in the right corner of my room, just beside the window. He had covered it with a thin white sheet and two white pillows.    The base and headboard he had just finished building were a dark black that contrasted with his clean white bedding.    A few cardboard boxes were still scattered around the room. I figured they were filled with his things.    He bent over to pick up one of the boxes and placed it on his bed.    He opened it and started to unpack his things.    I watched as he pulled out a shirt, some jeans, more shirts, and placed them on his bed, neatly folded.    I stood up and casually walked over to him.    He seemed distracted, not really observing his actions. Yet he still folded neatly and quickly.    "Want me to help?" I asked nicely.    He turned to look at me, placing yet another folded t-shirt on his bed.    He shrugged and slightly nodded his head, and then continued to unpack his things.    Okay then.    I rummaged through the box and pulled out a few pairs of pants and started to fold them.    We finished unpacking his clothes and hung them up in our closet.     He then unpacked other clothes, put away his shoe and coats, placed pictures and objects on the shelves and around his side of the room.    After nearly an hour, everything was done.    But one large box sat alone and untouched in the corner.    I bent over to pick it up but Harry ran up to me.    "No!" He yelled as he placed himself in front of the box protectively.    He was actually serious, his eyes displayed a hint of frustration.    He stood tall, towering over me, with his feet spread and his hands out towards his sides as if defending the box.   "Sorry." I laughed, raising my hands and surrendering sarcastically.    He sighed in relief and placed the box in the back of our closet.    Weirdock.   When everything was put away, he sat on his bed with his feet crossed over eachother.    He peered at me inquisitively with a smirk.   "Um.. Hi?" I said awkwardly.    "Hello." He said trailing the 'o'.    He quietly fiddled with his fingers a little and played with the hem of his shirt.    "Maybe we should get to know eachother." I stood up and sat on his bed beside him, crossing my legs.    He looked up at me and smiled, flashing pearly white teeth through his pink lips.    "Alright," he said.    "My name is Harry Styles, I'm eighteen, my favorite color is red and I really like dogs." He spoke casually, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.    He looked me in the eyes and I turned away, avoiding his gaze that often trailed on me.   "My name is Payton Neilson, I'm seventeen, my favorite color is green and I like giraffes." I answered.    "And how are these going to help us get to know eachother?" I asked curiously.   He shrugged and move his gaze from me, to the floor, his shoes suddenly becoming very interesting.    "Maybe it's just the beginning." He mumbled quietly.   
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