Dark Rosalie

Rosalie Jane Marx. Louis Tomlinson. She’s the girl every smart boy would avoid. He’s the boy who has girls throwing themselves at him. She’s the girl whose past is catching up on her. He’s the boy who’s living the life he has always dreamed about. She’s the girl for which everyday is a hard battle. He's the boy ready to fight .


1. 1.

I let out a sigh and closed the book, putting it down on my lap and resting my hands on top of it. ”You alright?” He asked, glancing at me then back at the road.


”Yeah. I’m fine.” I muttered, not taking my eyes of my hands. He let out a grunt and sverved the car into another lane.


This is how most of our conversations went. Hank asking if I’m alright, and me muttering something back in response. The first few days he would push it, or try to make a joke, anything to get a different reaction, but he soon understod that it wasn’t going to happen and dropped it. Feeling the car come to a halt, I looked up. People were rushing down the busy street, bumping into one another in the process, some with phones pressed up against their ear and a black briefcase in their hand. I let out a grunt, knowing exactly where we are. I would have expected something fancy from Hank but nothing like this, now he’s just trying to outdo himself. The building is partly made of stone until the last few tiers where it turns into glass. Important looking people were walking in and out through the open glass doors, not even taking a second glance at the doorman; who has to stand in the pouring rain, opening doors. 


Hank turned the engine off, and in the reflection of the car window, I could see him staring at me. ”Come on,” He groaned and dropped his hands in his lap. ”Rosalie, you can’t keep doing this. Not to me. I know this sucks, being here and not in the U.S, and I know you’re mad, you have every reason to be, but not at me. I want to go home too, you know.” Our eyes met for a split second but I looked away. I knew I would break, and right now, that’s something I want to avoid. He let out an exageratted sigh and muttered something under his breath. ”I’ll get our keys, lock up when you decide to come.” He said and placed the car key on my knee. Hank stepped out of the car and disappeared into the building.


”Good going, Rosalie.” I muttered and grabbed my black backpack from in front of me.


I stepped out from the car and locked it behind me. I took a deep breath before starting to push through the herd of people. I walked up the first few steps to the door. The man in a navy suit, with the name ‘George’ printed in gold onto his chest, opened the door. ”Welcome, miss.” He said in a deep british accent and for the first time in five weeks, I smiled. ”Thank you.”


The air turned from chilly to a warm one within just a few seconds. To my right were several couches placed in front of a big window, people were sitting with their coffee and magazines, talking and laughing with each others. On the opposite side is a big glass wall, with a few curtains cutting off half off it, and behind that a very busy looking resturant. Waitors were walking back and forth with plates off food, and only the sight of them instantly made my stomach shurn.


Man, I could kill for a good stake right now.


My eyes wandered to Hank’s figure, which were standing bent over the reciption a few feets in front of me. I took in a deep breath and walked up to him. He handed a man a piece of paper, probably the contract fo the apartment he signed, and turned to me. I forced a big smile and greeted the man. ”The reception is open twenty-four seven, so if anything, anything at all, would occur just call or come down here.”


”Thank you,” I softly said. The man smiled once more and walked away, shouting something about security.


”Floor six, apartment twenty-two C.” He handed me a key. ”I’ll go get our bags.” I nodded and watched him go out into the rain.


Maybe I am a bit tough on him. I mean, he’s only doing what he got assigned to do- protecting me- and all I'm doing in return is being a asshole. He really didn’t have anything to do with the whole thing, but he’s the only one I talk to, when I do, so he gets all my shit.


I really owe him an apology.


With that, I walked over to the elevators and pressed the up button. The elevator made a ‘ding’ noise and the doors slided open, showing off a white, empty elevator. I stepped in and pressed the button to our floor and just as the doors were about to close, a hand pushed them open and a boy entered.

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