Willow - A One Direction Fan Fiction

This is a Fan Fiction starring Louis Tomlinson, a member of One Direction [a boyband] that I am very fond of. I have not in any way intended to insult or offend Louis or his family, him in this story being completely fictional. A character that does not necessarily has any resemblance to the real person.
I hope you will enjoy.
Please be aware that English is not my first language, and therefore you might find a few grammar or/and spelling mistakes.


1. Chapter One

“Why has he not called me back? Are you even listening? Coda? Earth to Coda? For God’s sake, will you listen to me!” Sarah was not as smart as people – and by people I mean her Mercedes-driving-doctor-parents – made her out to be. The poor Matt guy had not called her back because of what I would have called a rack and her very strong believe in Christianity.

     A book as thick as the bible, you should think would have taught her something, but for such a Jesus-loving freak she was rather stupid.

     Her words brought me back from my daydreaming where Orlando Bloom ever so often participated, his shirt always doomed to make out with the floor.

     “I just do not get it! He promised me! He said that he would go straight to the kitchen, pick up the phone, and call me. It is a sick world.” The last word fell from her parted lips in a snarl, droplets of spit glistening from the corner of her mouth.

     My mouth felt it was my duty to comment on this, my mind (where a lot more sense was held) never catching up before the words were spilled. “Yeah, it is a sick world… What the Hell is he doing in the kitchen!”

     Sarah used a small hand to pry away some of the light brown hair that had fallen into her eyes, a penetrating gaze locking with my so soon to be changed and still pretty amused one.

     “It is not funny, Coda. I am really broken up about it, and all you do is making jokes and – oh, Lord! Look at that hottie!”

     I was never really one to keep fake friends, and I was not really one to be taken advantage of, because I kicked some serious ass, but stupid Sarah here, little always believing the good in people, stupid Sarah, actually thought that we were friends. Friends were not really the sort of thing I had to cherish, but more the kind of things that came into good use when it was needed – when I needed it.

     The closets I would ever get to a friend would be an enemy that was still alive.

     God, it sounded so dramatic, but when it came down to it, I was not really a people-person. Sarah was. And she had money. Lots of it – and people with a pregnant wallet always go to the big parties and being seen hanging out with them will do your reputation good.

     I was such a lovely person.

     I followed Sarah’s lingering gaze, her body stiff beneath the silvery light. If I had ever thought that I would never need someone, I was wrong. I needed him. This stranger with chestnut brown, chubby curls and eyes a lit with a heavenly fire that seemed to consume all the lights in the room, could have chopped me to pieces and built a bridge out of the remnants, and still the only thought that would be clouding up my mind would be: he is mine.

     “Holy shit. F-ck me with a brick and call me Betty.” What a beauty. And what an interesting choice of words, my vocabulary proving that it defiantly had seen better days. It was like my grades; from here, it was only downhill.

     The male gave a red-haired girl a smile before putting a hand at her lower back, leading her through the crowd. He was tall, athletic, and seemed a bit out of place, like he was not comfortable in his own skin.

     Like all of the other guys in the club, he was not constantly trying to keep score with this ridiculous game that every dark-eyed female enjoyed playing, making the opposite gender totally and utterly wild with desire and no sense in his bones to guide him home due to the fact that testosterone would follow a woman to Thailand if it had to.

     For the angelic wonder there were other rules. And I had no idea of what they were.

     We were playing with his deck of cards, and I was ready to begin if it had not been for Sarah that by now had forgotten all about Matt, her plumb lips parted in a coked smile; a female lion watching prey.

     She licked her lips before she said the following: “Wow, just wow. He is mine, you know. After all, I saw him first.”

     Sarah was just as right as she was stupid (which was A LOT). But she was something else too. Something I could not quite decipher as she stalked forwards in her fishnet-tights, her flat, brown hair falling down her back like a waterfall without the life-giving waves that wildness so desperately crave.

     She was outright mean. That was the word. Mean. If it was not for the three drinks that was running through my veins that night, I would have rejected to the idea my heart formed and showed my brain. Are you really going to let her stop you? She is just a girl. My mind was blurred, but not dumb. Listen to me, you idiot. It is suicide. Go out there, and you do not need your father’s gun to kill you.

     My heart controls the legs.

     I was right at Sarah’s heels. She was strolling further forward the male we had both chosen out for the night (and for me the rest of this life), but problems came in our way.

     A girl with a smirk plastered on her face, high heels, and a venomous mouth stood in front of the bar, facing Sarah, her hair a mess of flames and fire.

     Sarah tried with a “hi”.

     My stranger was just as beautiful up close, but he was not everyone’s type so to say. He had a bony nose, a perfect face, but he did not seem interested at all. 90 percent of the females in the club wanted someone that would let them sway their hips to the heavy bass, make them lose themselves on the dance floor, before taking them home and make them forget that this world ever stood.

     This guy looked at us (by ‘us’ I mean Sarah, me and back to Sarah) like we were some disgusting animals he had never seen before. Sarah gave the both of them a heartbreaking smile, making me wish I had brought popcorn.

     She was so dead.

     I was small, clumsy, but very fast. To guys I was not interesting, I just simply were. I was thin, but curvy, big brown eyes and so many dark, brown curls that you could get lost in them.

     I was proud of my d-cup and broad hips, though it did not provide me with the ever so modern thigh-gap. Still I was beyond okay; I was more than okay, pretty actually, but not sexy. Not someone you would like to be tangled up in the sheets with.

     And I was fine with that. I had an issue. An issue that only certain people, and dogs could find. Dogs hated me. Not because of my personality - no. It was more the lack of it.

     I had even killed a cat once.

     But it was only to the point where I could control it; to the point where my shrink was comfortable letting me walk around to have a normal life. I was not insane. I was just special, social awkward, and went by on other people’s unhappiness. I was a snake, creeping up where you would least expect it, and, without second thought, sink my teeth into someone’s back.

     It was here Sarah came into my life.

     My dominating features would allow me that, but never had I felt the desire to kill something bigger than a cat. I was no monster, just lost. Sarah had no idea. It was not the kind of thing you shared with your fake friends. It was not something you shared with anyone.

     “I will tell you what I believe [the shrink had said]. You’re just as normal as I am. You just have certain urges, and that does not make you a bad person. Just remember, in the words of Dr. Seuss; ‘no one wants a friend with a heart two sizes too small.’” [From author: I am aware that this is not the real quote].

     I cautiously played with the hem of my sea blue dress, not wanting to cause too much attention, Sarah already succeeding in winning red over. Apparently, she could be very persuasively when she wanted to.

     Another gift I did not have.

     The boy got up from his stool, long fingers running through his hair. Those captivating, blue eyes were undoubtedly some of his most charming features; like staring into a lighthouse and right now they were… Looking right at me, one eyebrow raised in dismay. Why are you staring at me? His eyes seemed to say. I had no idea. I had freaking no idea.

     Sarah took a hold in my arm. “Annie and I thought about going to the bar. Want to come?”

     “It is okay. I have a call to make,” I said, reaching for my phone in one of the many pockets in my jacket.

     Sarah looked flustered as Red sniggered. “You really thought she was talking to you? She addressed Louis.”

     Louis stepped closer, leaning into Sarah, his hot breath fanning over her face. “Erh-”

     What a b-tch. The both of them.

     “Listen up, Red-”

     “It is Annie.” She looked smug in her green dress, completely aware of the current situation as Louis worked his magic on the still stuttering Sarah.

     “You are a wandering freak show, you know that? No one was phoning you.”

     “Coda! Will you behave?” Sarah gave me a look of frustration, but for the first time that night, Louis turned his head and looked at me with some kind of interest, Sarah long forgotten as he moved closer, long eyelashes brushing shadows down his cheekbones in the dim light. He leaned closer, his whispered words only meant for me.

     “I know what you are. We are the same, you and I, but I do not want any trouble. Not with you, nor any of your filthy street dogs.”

     He backed, his eyes narrow, almost threatening. How dared he? “Sarah, we are leaving.”

     “Let the girl stay.”

     A strange feeling was building up in me, eating from the inside and out; the urge to break down and cry suddenly overpowering my heart, but somehow I was not going to give him that. Rejection flooded through my body in unpleasant waves.

     “Coda,” Sarah began, but I never heard the rest of her soothing words. I had already left.

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