I wake up to an aching pain in my jaw and it begins to throb terribly. What happened last night? The room is so dark, I can't see anything.
The room.. Where am I?
I sit up quickly and regret it right when I did it. The wrath of a hangover kills my head mercilessly. I feel soft cushion under my bum and I grasp the blankets that are on top of me. I rip it off, finally standing up. I take a step forward, only to fall flat down on the floor with a loud thump.
"Look who's up," a sleepy voice mumbles. "Well, down." He chuckles almost to himself.
I push my body off the floor and switch on the light. "Who are you?" I ask. "Where am I?"
He peeks up at me with one eye and removes himself off the floor. Without a shirt. He was the guy from last night.. God, he was so hot with his hair all messy and his chest.. Stop, Harry.
"I'm Niall," he says, looking down.
An Irish accent, huh? How did I miss that? Well, then again, I was drunk out of my mind and I don't remember much.
He snaps his head back up, his eyes hard. "Does that matter?"
I take a step back. What was his problem? I look at the door behind me and I can tell he knows what I'm thinking. I make a run for it.
He chuckles and grips my hips, harshly turning me around to face him. "Don't even think about it. You need to stay. Here." His eyes were so incredibly blue. But they were so distant and lost. He had pink, full lips and a straight, perfect nose.
"Where am I, Niall?" I ask breathlessly.
His house? Oh my god. "Why am I at your house?"
"You don't remember?" I shake my head. "You were about to get raped, Harry. You were in an alley, drunk, and an even worse boozed up guy comes along and decides he's interested in you. You feel the bruise on your jaw? Hurts doesn't it?" I nod sheepishly. "He hit you. Then I came along and beat the living shit out of him."
"Because!" He yells as he punches the wooden door two inches away from my face. I cringe and clench my fists. "Because," His voice softens a bit, so I loosen up. "He hurt you, Harry."
"I don't under- wait, how do you know my name?" I ask him.
Niall smirks and raises his right hand. He grazes my bruised jaw, then up my face, touching my curls when he stops. He twirls some of them around on his finger and lets them drop.
"So innocent," he merely whispers. He leans in and presses soft kisses on my neck, clearly trying to find my weak spot. He traps my wrists under his and I tense up. "I carried you," he mumbles while he slid his tongue down one of my peeking veins. "All the way here. Then I came to find out you passed out. What a shame, we could've had fun."
Why was I letting him do this to me? Why aren't I pushing him away? A part of me is too scared to, the other part of me.. Just doesn't know what.. What to do. I've never been treated like this before.
"Why did you help me?" I ask quietly.
He tightens his grip around my wrist and roams my neck. I clench my fists. Don't do it Harry, don't do it. Don't. Do. It.
His lips trail just under my jaw line on the left. And I moan.
You did it, Harry.
I feel his lips smile as he increases his pressure on that spot and I claw the door behind me, feeling the wood peel on my finger nails. He sucks violently, almost desperately, and stomps his foot on the floor.
"Because you're mine."
He gets off me, gives me one more look, and leaves. I run to his dresser mirror and see what I was hoping I didn't.
He marked me.