Love Drunk

Zarah Patel is used to partying until the sun rises, drinking till she's forgot her morals and not remembering the name of her one-night stands when she wakes up in the morning with a hangover.

Niall's the opposite.
Touring with the band keeps him busy and half-out of trouble. He's always out and about, eating or just having a laugh with his four best friends.

When One Direction go on tour to Dehli, will Niall find his true love in a marketplace full of saris and sequins?
Or will one thing drive them even further apart. . .


1. Woke Up, Fucked Up.


*Sukriya means Thank You in Hindi*



"Oh, come on!"

I remember those words, luring me with temptation.

With wide brown eyes, innocent and pleading.

With plump soft lips, moving as he spoke.

With soft brown waves of hair, shiny and sleek.

So I fell for it.

"I'm going, Adhira, don't wait up."

Saying my farewells to my brother, I grabbed the boys' hand and we sped off, away from the party.

My black sari trailed in the black dirt, my bare feet muddy.

It wasn't covering much of me, but only exposing my flat stomach with my belly piercing. A gold scorpion with blue jewels for its' eyes.

It didn't cover my arms, either, for that matter.

I let my hair loose from its long braid and let the knee-length black waves fly behind me as we ran in the heated moment of the night.  



I turned around, groaning tiredly. I opened my eyes and the world was a blur. I could tell where I was.

The lights above me hurt my eyes, and my head was throbbing, so I turned back into my pillow. I could literally feel the nerves in my teeth buzzing.

A migrane.

I propped myself up on my elbows and looked around the strange, unfamiliar room.  I was lying on a four-poster bed with silk curtains, and the walls were painted cream with a huge chocolate coloured carpet.


The boy from my dream smiled at me and set down a tray of slices orange and mango, with a cup of water.

"Sukriya." I muttered, downing the water and pulling the stray tendrils of hair from my eyes.

"You're welcome, gorgeous." He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked my face.

I looked up at him, a little freaked out, my cup of water poised to drink.

He just smiled.

I took in his appearance; baggy white shirt, linen trousers and sandals. His hair was dark and tousled but his eyes were a kind blue, like the colour of a night sky.  They looked strange paired with coffe coloured skin. His lips were full and pouted and he had dark stubble running along his jaw.

"Atil? What are you doing here?"

Atil was the 'elephant boy'. He took care of Lucky, our elephant. Cleaned her, stroked her. Even let me ride on her.

"Last night. We, um. . . "

He cast his eyes down onto the soft white duvet and I groaned frustratedly, clutching my hair.

"Why? Tell me why, Vishnu!" I held my head in my hands for a minute before flinging myself out the bed and storming out the bedroom.

Atils' uncle owned this place. I'd been here before as a child.

The stupid dick had taken advantage of me while I was drunk!


I charged into the main room and watched my father laughing haughtily at something Atil's papa had said.

"You set that up!" I yelled.

Papa grinned at me, his eyes squinted shut in pleasure.

"I can't believe you! I know you wanted me to wed Atil, but that's going too far!"

I spun on my bare heel and watched, my mouth agape, as Atil sauntered forward, chewing a piece of straw like a cowboy in the western films we used to watch.

Papa slapped his back cerimoniously, nodding in approval.

"You made him have sex with me!" I shrieked in outrage, as if it wasn't obvious. Taking my black sari which was draped over the armchair and wrapping it quickly around my body.

"Devils, the lot of them." I growled, flinging open the front door. I heard Papa shout, but I ignored it, running outside and into the bustling streets of Delhi.












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