Captured

When the elevator doors parted, and Harry Styles met my gaze, he flashed a smile that could easily melt the hearts of a million girls. I have to say, he is quite good-looking in person. And god, that dimple is just ridiculously beautiful.

He stepped in and leaned against the wall. The lame elevator music filled that silence for a while. Finally, he utters, "That's weird." I remained quiet.

"Here you are in the same room with Harry Styles and you're not freaking out."

"Am I supposed to freak out?" I said sternly.

"Ooh, feisty. I like that," he was getting closer to me, "Tell me, what's your name?"

"I'm not that easy, Harry Styles."

He laughed a bit, and then grabbed my hand. He closed the gap between us and crashed his lips into mine. He took the wind out of my sails, and I stood there, startled and flabbergasted. His other hand was on my waist. He was practically sucking on my lips, so I pushed him back.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice rough and deep.

Before I could even gather my thoughts, his face once again blocked my vision, and Harry Styles returned to harassing me. He smelled like expensive male perfume and alcohol. This guy is barely sober. He doesn't know what he's doing. He pushed me against the wall and I tried my best to fight him off. Why is Harry Styles so strong?

Finally, when I was able to regain my composure already, I remembered the trick that is proven and tested to repel any jerks assaulting you defenselessly. I kicked his crotch, and Harry Styles let out a very loud "Ow!" He got down on his knees in so much discomfort, "What on bloody hell was that for?"

"I don't know dude. A simple thank you for trying to molest me," I answered.

I heard a ding and the door finally opened. Floor number twenty-three. Before I could get out of this nightmare, Harry Styles gripped my hand, but I let go of it without further ado and slapped him in the face with so much dynamism, and driven by a hunger for retribution, "Touch me ever again, and I swear to god I will cut off your god damned balls until the time that reproducing Harry Styles Junior is not possible anymore."

I walked as fast as I could and moved through the hallways. When I reached my room, I instantaneously glided the key card to the door so I could finally enter.

I tried to lie pleasantly on my king-size bed, but my thoughts kept bringing me back to the incident that had happened just a while ago. Harry Styles all over me. His hands, his lips, even his green eyes that I managed to appreciate for a while, But I didn't just hate sharing elevators with people. I also hated sharing it with Harry Styles. And most all, I detested Harry Styles.

In this kind of situation, I'd usually call Bridget for comfort. But she's currently obsessed with One Direction, and is blinded by the tale that the boys are wonderful people. Apparently, one of them attempted to rape me. I crossed the idea of calling her out. I called her brother, Marcus, instead.

"Hey gummy bears, where are you?" there was a loud music in the background. Of course he was at the party already.

"I'm in my room right now," I replied, "Will you please come and get me?"

"I'll be there in five minutes."

That's one thing I love about Marcus. He always knows when something is wrong with me, and he'd come rushing to my side to make sure everything's alright. Although sometimes, things don't really get better, Marcus's presence always ensures me a brighter day.

A moment later, there was a faint knock on my door, "It's Marcus."

"Come in," I shouted back.

"You look like a mess, Austin. What happened?" he asked as he sat on the bed with me.

"Do you know Harry Styles?"

Marcus kind of nodded, "No, not really. But I was actually talking to his friends, Niall and Liam before you called me. They said he's a nice guy. Well sometimes, that is. Why?"

"Nice? That douche bag tried to to rape me," I answered firmly, feeling my blood boil under my skin.

"He what?! Niall and Liam told me he was a flirt, but they didn't tell me he's a hypothetical rapist. I will kill that guy."

"Yeah, Marcus, that is a very great idea.But he is Bridget's VIP guest, remember?"

"Who said we'll kill him right now? After Bridget's party, I swear will slaughter Harry Styles and CSI: New York will someday base an episode on this," he chuckled, "Wait, do you want me to tell Bridget about this or.."

"No, don't tell her," I said, "Trust me, she's most likely not to believe us."

Marcus scoffed, "Come here." He pulled me into a great big hug, "Do you feel better now?"

"I'd feel so much better if we can massacre that Harry Styles already."

Once again, Marcus laughed.

"You're very late already, and Bridget will surely kill you. I think we need to go now," he said, "Don't you worry. I've got your back. I'll punch Harry Styles in the face if he comes near you."

"Thank you, Marcus," I smiled.

After I fixed my hair and re-applied lipstick, Marcus and I headed off to the rooftop.