"You're mine," he growled into my ear. "Not Niall's, not Zayn's, not Louis', and especially not Harry's. You're mine, and I will do what it takes to make you mine."

"Are you sure you're not out of time?" I looked at him over the rim of my glass filled with beer.

"I might be out of time, but I can fuck you better than any of them."

"Alright," I placed my glass down. "Then prove it."


17. keep it

"Boston what exactly are you doing?" Harry asked me.

"Looking for a tattoo to cover the one I already have," I said simply to him.

He swallowed and stepped closer, "They won't touch it."

"What? Of course they will."

"No," he said more sternly. "That tattoo is on a part of where first there's not supposed to be a tattoo and secondly they all know Liam."

"Fine, let them tell him."

"You don't understand," he started. "They won't touch you once they see his name."


"You're his," he exhaled. "No one else's. No one can touch you, talk to you or anything."

"That's ridiculous."

"That's Liam." 

"But you're touching me," I pulled him close placing his hand on my waist.

"No you are having me touch you. I'm not making the movements you are, that's different."

I exhaled loudly, "So what do you want me to do about this tattoo?"

His eyes scanned up my body, his eyes reaching mine. "Nothing."

"I don't want it."

"Keep it as a memory," he said before he turned and left the tattoo tent, pushing his fingers through his curly hair. 

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