Wake Me Up

My powerful fist lightly tapped the dark wood of Drew's door. I glanced down at my white Converse. They showed signs of good use, considering they were my favorite shoes. On the other side of the door, I heard a faint yell, "Coming!"

I quickly adjusted my fitted black blazer and light blue dress shirt. As she opened the door, I was running my fingers through my curly locks, hoping they looked okay.

The door creaked open. My jaw felt like lead and I forced it from hitting the ground. Her legs looked a mile long with navy heels, bringing her only an inch from my eye level. A coral colored pencil skirt hugged her thighs and perky butt. Hanging off one of Drew's shoulder was a white and navy striped blouse. Natural auburn waves flowed down her back and shoulders. The most captivating part of her appearance was her hazel eyes, with flecks of brown, gold, and green.

My admiration of her was soon interrupted.

"Harry, are you ready?" Her white teeth sparked in her smile.

Snapping out of my trance and running my fingers through my brown mop again, "Yes," I replied. I offered out my left hand and she returned the gesture by grabbing on. Stepping to the side, I made sure she ended up on the right side of my. Bending my elbow, her small arm hooked through mine. Drew's dainty hand squeezed my bicep.

A black Range Rover sat almost alone in the barren parking lot. I easily swung the door open for her and helped her in. Jogging over to my side, I hopped in and instantaneously started the engine and zoomed away. Her gaze shifted towards my, but my eyes stayed focused on the road.

"Are you going to put your seatbelt on?"

My right hand was resting on the steering wheel, but now it was clenched tight, as was my jaw, making my knuckles fade to white. "No." My voice was much deeper than hers and you could almost feel it echo throughout the vehicle.

Drew diverted her eyes back forward. Adjusting herself in the leather seat, her head began to rest on the cold glass window. I kept driving forward, focusing on the road before my eyes and the hum of the tires on the hard pavement, instead of the beautiful and captivating girl next to me. She didn't know how badly I wanted to pull her onto my lap, tear her clothes off, and make her mine.

We soon arrived at a small Italian restaurant. I killed the engine and began to climb out of my car. Drew tried to get out, but before she could even open the door, I grabbed her arm, and said, "Stop."

She sunk back into her seat. Making my way around to the other side, I opened the passenger door and offered out my hand. Her small warm hand looked like it was half the size of mine. Gracefully, she exited the vehicle. After putting her on the right side of me, I felt my left hip before shoving my hand into the pocket of my trousers. Her hand remained in mine as we continued towards the restaurant.

"Reservation under Styles."

The host grabbed two menus from a stack of many, and led us to the back to a secluded and intimate booth.

"My name is Gavin, and I am your waiter. I'll be back shortly." Blonde swoopy hair covered his forehead and his eyes never departed from Drew's.

I tried to drill a hole through his head with my eyes, but he didn't even seem to notice. He was more mesmerized by Drew. A bright smile flashed across her face, and her white teeth sparked in the low light. Gavin confidently walked away like he was on top of the world.

After a short inhale, Drew began to speak, "So, Harry, what do you do for work?"

I wasn't one for small talk bullshit, but Drew seemed uncertain about who I was.

"I am employed by one of my close friends. It requires me to travel a lot."

"Well what exactly is your job? You already know I work in the bakery." She gave me the same smile she gave to Gavin. It wasn't returned on my face.

I had to dodge the subject, my job was a secret. If I told anyone, my career could be over.

"Um are you in college?" I asked.

A puzzled look washed up on her face, confused as to why I didn't answer her question. She wiped the look off her face after a second, and decided to just go ahead and answer the question.

"Yes, I am. English and creative writing major."

My eyes scanned over the menu, even though I already knew my order. Drew took her bottom lip between her teeth.

Like promised, Gavin returned. "Are you guys ready to order?"

"Yes," I harshly replied. His gaze shifted from Drew, to me. He looked taken back. I sat straight up, looking taller.

"I'll have the chicken parmesan with your house Merlot, and she'll have the seafood risotto with the Chardonnay."

Gavin's looked confused. I was overpowering, demanding, controlling.

Drew sunk back, uncertain of my actions.

After he departed, she unwarily muttered, "I didn't plan on ordering that."

Narrowing my eyes, "Trust me," I barked. "Anyway," my phone uncontrollably vibrated against the dark wooden table top. I grabbed the mobile and shoved it in my lap, muting the obnoxious noise. Continuing, "Where do you come from?" My head cocked to the right. I wanted to know more about this fascinating girl.

After a sip from her wine, she began, "I am from Bristol, but I moved down here right after secondary school." Another small gulp of her drink. "What about you?"

The hot food arrived just in time to prevent me from sharing my unnecessary past. It was almost the less she knew about me, the better. This girl could singlehandedly ruin my career.

For the second time that night, my phone chirped.

"Damn, sorry, I have to take this." My tone became slightly more harsh, "Stay here."

"Yes?" My boss on the other line, got right to business, and there was no need for proper greetings.

"I need you to work now." He stated.

"I can't. Not tonight. Call me tomorrow, and I'll do it. Not tonight, though."

"Why not?" He was stubborn and persistent. This wasn't going to end without a fight.

"I cannot work tonight. Understand? It isn't going to happen." My finger tapped the red 'end' button on my mobile. My boss was left with a dead line.

When I returned to the table, Drew still sat, relaxed back into the squishy upholstered seat backs.

"Sorry, love, it was my boss."

She continued to slowly munch on her risotto. Sensing the boredom and lack of content on her face, I spoke up, "Shall we go dancing now?"

Her head shook in a quick nod, desperate to leave 75 pounds, enough to cover the meal and a large tip, were soon slapped down on the table as Drew and I climbed out of the booth. I walked to her left side and placed my hand on the small of her back as we both left the restaurant.

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(Drew POV)

The club was packed. Sweaty bodies were pushed up against one another, some willingly, other unwillingly. Guys leaned back, propped up on their elbows, resting the bar. Bartenders scrambled around, trying to please their impatient customers. Strobe lights and spotlights streamed across the entire building. Bass echoed throughout, and you could feel the vibrations crawl up your legs and shake the dance floor.

Harry guided me to the bar. He order a beer for himself, and shockingly, let me order a mojito for myself.

After both consuming our alcoholic beverages, I was forced on the dance floor. His hips were pushed up firmly against mine, grinding to the beat of the music. Hot breath shivered down my neck. Curls brushed on my cheek.

Harry lead the dance, and controled my movements. When he saw I wasn't even giving a halfhearted effort, his mouth was up against my ear, "Brighten up."

Spinning around to face him, he still had his hands on my hips, "I need to get some air."

Escaping his grasp and squeezing through the throng of raving bodies was only the first battle.

In an instant, a tall dark figure pressed my back up against a wall in a barren hallway.

His knee soon wedged itself between my legs, and lifted me up. My heel was hardly touching the ground. A thick hand took my left hand and pinned it up against the rough brick wall, and an equally enormous right hand pushed my hips back.

Wincing from the assaulting actions, my heart pumped harder, my respiration increased.

"I couldn't let you away from me, could I, love?" A familiar deep voice declared.

"Harry," My body struggled to fill my lungs with air.

I was interrupted before I could protest his actions, "Nobody knows your mine, anyone could have taken you."

"No, Ha-"

"Don't argue with me," his dark voice was back.

Pitch black eyes saw into my soul. He had removed his right hand to make sure my face stayed forward. It then moved across to the side of my neck as his plump lips moved towards mine. In an instant my head turned to the right, my cheek touching the wall.

Hot breath fled across my cheeks, "Is that how you want to play?", he whispered in my ear.

Inching closer, his hips were pressing into mine. All of my limbs went limp and the only thing keeping me up was him. Cold hands were inching up my thighs underneath my skirt.

Mustering up the strength, I protested. My arms tried to push back his hips. I felt a hard and thick object on his left side. A gun.

Our eyes locked into place, staring at each other. Harry backed off, his hips stopped pressing into mine, his hands removed from my legs.

"Drew.."

I was given enough space and time to run, heading towards the nearest exit, which wasn't far away. I thrusted through a few people and shoved the door open. Like expected, Harry trailed behind me. While I was running, his long walking stride was the same pace.

He called my name one more time, echoing in the alleyway between buildings. At first, I thought it was raining, until I touched my face. Teardrops slowly rolled down towards my chin and slowly fell toward the ground.

I had stopped running, just waiting for Harry to come closer to me. His big hands cradled my head, as he wiped tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"What…" I began to stammered. Words were unable to come out of my mouth.

I knew what was tucked under his pants, and he knew what I was thinking.

"It's part of the job. It's not my decision to carry a gun, trust me." More tears fell, "Shhhhh." He comforted.

His hands found mine, our fingers interlaced. Small sobs still escaped from my throat. We walked a few seconds before he took his fingers out of mine, grabbed my hips and guided me from his left side to his right. In that moment, I caught on. When I was headed to work yesterday, I saw Harry pulling his jacket over his pants, he was covering up his gun. Every time we walked together, I was on his right side, and he made sure to switch me over if I wasn't.

Each minute, I wondered more about what his job would be. What jobs required him to carry a gun? Assassin?

Our ride back to the flats was awkward. Harry's fingers pads tapped against the leather steering wheel. My face felt tight, puffy, and read from tears, my eyes dried out.

Being his gentlemanly self, he opened all doors. Harry lead me to his flat, instead of mine. Gesturing towards his bed, I took a seat. He rummaged through a few drawers, found a thin t-shirt and some black boxers.

With my eyes closed, he pulled my shirt off and over my head, his was soon slipped on. The high heels were removed from my feet, and half the discomfort in my body washed away. I leaned back so my skirt could be removed. The soft boxers slid up my legs. Harry pulled back the covers of his bed. My head hit the plush pillow and the last thing I could remember before dozing off into unconsciousness was a soft kiss on my forehead.