"Just relax and have a drink or two or three or ten, babe," Harry winked, sitting down on the edge of a seat beside of the bar. We had already eaten, and now it was getting late as we just arrived at the club. To be honest, I had never been to one before, and this was a completely new experience for me. The music boomed in my ears, with people squishing their bodies against my standing figure, trying to reach a different destination -most likely the dance floor that was crowded with moving blurs.

Harry got the bar tender's attention, ordering two large beers. I decided to stay standing, not feeling comfortable with sitting down for an odd reason. When the beers were placed in front of us, Harry immediately grabbed his and began chugging it down. I, however, took my time with exploring the new taste.

He watched me intently as I took a sip of the intoxicating liquid. As it ran down my throat, it sent a burning sensation along with it. Harry raised his eyebrows as if asking, "Well?". And to be honest, I didn't like the beer. In fact, I hated it. And I knew exactly why. I had watched my mother poison herself with this for a long time, changing into someone that I didn't know. There was a fear within me, and I didn't want to taste anymore of the beer. I hated it even before I had drank it.

"I don't like it," I stated simply, pushing the glass away with my hands. My nose crinkled with disgust, and I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes. It made me feel as though it was a sin; an utterly despairing crime to even look at the -what I called- poison. My eyes traveled back to meet Harry's emerald ones, which suddenly flickered with slight agitation as he already started drinking his second glass of poison.

He shook his head, finding my gaze again. "What is wrong with you?" I decided not to reply, and thankfully, he didn't feel like arguing with me anymore than he had to. Silence passed between us, leaving nothing but the music and loud hollers of the other people to cause the noise.

After he had downed his third bottle of poison, he urgently grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the dance floor. We squeezed our way through sweaty, crowded bodies that were dancing wildly, but this was something that I didn't mind. Actually, I loved it. Annabelle wasn't the only one in our family that loved to dance.

Harry and I started dancing apart, moving our feet to the fast beat. He grabbed onto another girl's hips as they grinded on each other, with her strawberry-blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and almost all the way to her bum, which Harry admired with close attention. This angered me, not because I was jealous, but because he had taken me out by force, only to completely ignore me. I wouldn't allow that to happen. I wouldn't be ignored again.

I decided to play the little game that he was playing, but instead of acting like a slut, I didn't dance with anyone else. It was just me and the music.

Swaying my hips from side to side and covering a great distance with them, I received attention from not only Harry, but many single men in the club. Their stares were locked on my body, trailing from my dark hair, all the way down my rather long legs. I made sure to be as seductive as possible, basically twerking in midair. My hips, bum, torso, and legs worked together to match the beat, and it was obvious by the look in the men's eyes that they were fighting the urge to come up to me.

I spun around in a circle when warm, strong arms slithered around my waist from behind. A pressure was applied against my entire backside, and I knew that it was Harry because of the curls that tickled my cheek from the side. "I want you so badly," he said lowly in my ear, sending satisfied shivers down my spine. I wanted him to want me.

However, I didn't want him to want me for the reason that most people would think. I just wanted to show him what he couldn't have, to show him that I had more power than what he thought. I wanted to draw him in, then surprise him by turning him on quickly, only to then show him that the feeling wasn't mutual. I wasn't a helpless toy.

I could smell the poison freshly on his tongue, and he took another sip from the glass that he held in his hand. His hips grinded roughly on mine, both of us out of breath and already sweating heavily. The way his hands tugged me closer and closer to him, I felt as though my mission had been accomplished. He now wanted me, but I wasn't going to let him have me. Somehow, I would prove to him that he could never own me. I wasn't a possession that he could have and use as he pleased. Even though he terrified me, I would never let him know that.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I blurted randomly, pulling away from him. "I'll be right back." He frowned, struggling to tighten his grip, but I avoided his large hands, dodging each attempt that they made. He wasn't quite drunk yet, but his pupils were slowly dilating. When I looked into his emerald orbs, I saw that they were different. They still shone brightly, but something wasn't the same.

Now, it was clear that they matched the eyes that he held in my dream. They shone with a darkness, due to the poison. They were basically an open book for all of his emotions in this intoxicated state. It was clear how he was feeling because of the hungry lustful look hidden in the color, the constant anger in them, along with the same frightening look that froze me to my spot, with the damned beauty that made me fight the urge to pull him to me and feel him against me once again. Something about him made me completely hooked, even though I new he was bad for me. I knew how my mother felt. Harry was the thing that I was sadly, utterly addicted to, even though I nearly hated him and was petrified by his very presence.

And that was why I had to escape before -just like my mother- he changed me into something that I wasn't. Before he completely captured me into his world, leaving frighteningly pleasurable images forever in my brain and heart. There was no doubt in my mind that he would hurt me, sooner or later.

I had to leave him. My dream boy was my own poison.

After his constant protests and sentences of how he needed to go with me, I was finally able to walk away without him following behind me. I walked towards the restroom, but as soon as I saw him with his back to me and his arms around the same blonde that he danced with previously, I did the only thing that I could think of. I did what I knew was best for me, and what I knew I had to do. I bolted out of the back door.

"So you're Harry's girl?" Stopping dead in my tracks, I was slightly breathless from the quick adrenaline that was disturbed by the man that was speaking to me. His back was pressed to the brick wall of the large building, and he held a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke escaped his lips as he spoke. He had jet black hair that was rather long, stopping at his shoulders. Muscles bulged through his leather jacket, and he was at least three inches taller than me, matching Harry's height.

I didn't say anything. My eyes just glued themselves to his buff appearance. After breathing out another puff of smoke, he continued speaking. "I saw the two of you dancing and hanging around each other. I think the lad fancies you quite a bit, actually. It's been a while since he has had an actual girl rather than a random person every night since the little incident with Tori."

At this, my eyebrows raised with confusion. "What?" I stepped closer to him, intrigued by his slow words. He chuckled, still drawing nearer to me. He said in a mocking tone, "Harry didn't tell his girl about himself?"

"I'm not Harry's girl," I defended quickly, slowly getting uncomfortable when he was close enough that I could smell the smoke and other substances on him. "I don't like him and was just about to leave."

He smirked, yet his brows were furrowed. "He'll chase you." His words made me ponder each syllable with fearing consideration. "The boy always loves a good chase. If you leave but he wants you to stay -and by the way he watched you, then that's the case- he will chase you and stop at nothing to get you. He rarely does that with women, but I'm not sure if you should be flattered or frightened."

My lips were trying to cooperate with my brain, but it struggled to say anything. Eventually, I asked an obvious question. "Who are you?"

"Ah, just an old pal of the man." He waved his hand in the air carelessly. His tone dripped with a false kindness, and I instantly knew that he was lying. "Who are you?" I repeated the question with a command, authority in my voice. He frowned, but only chuckled.

"Harry and I go back a long way," he began, tossing sparks from his cigarette to the ground with the swift wiggle of his fingers. He creeped closer, making me cautiously step backwards. "You see, we have a little agreement that we made just after Tori left him heartbroken. We won't have any problems as long as we keep our business to ourselves." Again, I asked who Tori was, which made him reply, "A girl that was smart enough to leave him before she fell in love...But he was already in love, so he was quite upset."

"Why do you both have an agreement? What does that mean?" I questioned, eyeing him suspiciously. He only replied with asking, "Exactly how long have you known Harry?"

I bit my lip, embarrassed to tell this stranger that I twerked with someone that I hadn't known long. So, instead of giving him the truth, I only said the technical answer, starting from when Harry hit me with his car. "Four days." He gave a humorless laugh, giving me a stare that now completely terrified me instead of making me feel uncomfortable. "No wonder the lad hasn't told you about himself yet. But that just adds further to my conclusion that he really fancies you, or wants you for something."

Sex. And the satisfaction of making me afraid.

"What does he need to tell me about himself?"

He inhaled a quick, rather excited breath before telling me all about Harry -a stranger that was now unfortunately in my life. However, I planned to escape as soon as this man told me. "Well, you see, Harry is a leader of a gang, and so am I. His gang is my...Well, enemy, in a way. We both do things for money, because we were once almost homeless. If you want to survive, you will do anything to do so.

"Anyways, what we do is very simple. We make our money by fighting. People bet on who will win, and we choose a vacant location and fight. And it's not boxing, honey. Several people are killed during these fights with our bare hands and a small ring that we are given. If we win, we automatically get five thousand pounds. But if we lose, we only get five hundred. After the fighting that takes place all day, we split the money that we earned equally amongst our groups. Harry's gang and my gang are the top two in this entire area, but there are others that we fight against as well.

"The reason that Harry doesn't have a single scar on him from the brutal fights is because he has a...gift. At least, for what he does to get rich, it's a gift. When something completely sets him off, he becomes a totally different person. All it takes is a simple sentence or a simple action to create this...thing...inside of him. His face gets emotionless and constant adrenaline is put into him. He stops at nothing until he feels as though the person has gotten what they deserved. And even then, he can't control himself from going farther.

"I learned that he has this...disability, I guess you can say. The negative spot in his brain that holds his temper is easily triggered and there's nothing you can really do to stop it, at least, that's what I heard. Maybe someday, there will be something in his life to weaken that part of him to where it's at least controllable. He has killed quite a few people out of anger.

"I also found out why Harry was almost homeless, because when you fight against people, you have to learn every single thing about them. Apparently, his father left his family when he was seven years old. He lived with his mum and sister for a while before he lived with his father, Des. When his father was hurt badly because of a gang and put into a coma, Harry was angry and wanted revenge. His father is still in a coma to this day, but when it first happened, Harry was thrown out of the home that they shared because he couldn't pay for anything on his own.

"So now, Harry is one of the richest men in London, but keeps a secret for why he is rich. Now, this Tori gal that I mentioned, she is probably the worst thing that ever happened to Harry. After they had dated for several months, his dad was hurt and Harry started hiding things from her for about two months before she found out what he was doing. To be honest, she never really loved him. Even after almost a year that they were together. When she did find out, she left him and I heard that she moved to somewhere in Ireland.

"When she left, Harry's violence was out of control in his fights. The 'rulemakers' made him take a long break from fighting, and the only thing he could do was watch the members of his gang fight and coach them. He knew that the reason Tori left was because she was terrified of him, so that's when Harry and I made a...treaty. He wanted to limit his stress and anger. But Tori also told Harry that I was the one that scared her, but we both knew that we both frightened her.

"The agreement that we have been living by for about three months now is that his business is his business and my business is mine. And I'm not supposed to talk to him or go near anything that is his."

When he finished his long explanation, my mouth was wide open with horror, my face twisting with with wide eyes. He laughed a bitter chortle before tossing his cigarette to the ground after a final puff of smoke and closed the gap between us. I was speechless, frozen to my place with a sudden alarmed confusion. His body was pressed against mine, with my back painfully shoved against the brick wall of the club.

He brought his lips closely to my ear and growled seductively, "So since you aren't his, I think that I would like to claim you before he does." My heart began to race quickly as he pressed his lips on my neck, sucking harshly on my flesh. I winced, trying to push him away, but my arms were soon locked in his grip that was just as tight as Harry's grip when I tried to leave his house. "And if you scream, love, I promise that I won't be as gentle as I am now."

Gentle? How was he being gentle? His hand slowly gazed over my thigh, making its way to my...area. I struggled and brought my knee up to his groin, but he dodged it before forcefully and angrily crashing his chapped, smoke-tasting, disgusting lip onto mine. My first kiss was ruined. Gone forever. And I couldn't take it back.

Doing the only thing that I could think of, I bit down over the man's lips, soon tasting his horrid blood in my mouth, making me feel sick. He pulled away, slowly wiping the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand. A glare was sparked in his eyes, but soon he smirked and came closer. "Guess you're one of the feisty ones. Don't worry, I have things to control you."

Before I could think of what that meant, his body was pulled away from mine. I saw Harry standing there, and the look in his eyes that the man had told me was there, placed perfectly in his emerald orbs. It was an untamed, terrifying gleam that showed rage, sadness, and a monster all at the same time. The man was on his back on the pavement, struggling to get up. Harry's body was soon placed firmly and protectively in front of mine, early blocking my vision.

"Harry, don't do something you'll regret," The man spoke whilst slowly standing, noticing the look in Harry's eyes that he was probably familiar with. Apparently, he knew exactly what to say to stop it and turn it from anger to utter sadness. "She will run away from you just like Tori did."

Harry's shoulders were going up and down with quick breaths escaping him. His hands were balled into tight fists with his jaw clenched. "Devin, get out of here now and remember our deal." Without another word from either of them, Devin gave a careless shrug and nonchalantly walked away. Harry turned around to face me with the look in his eyes fading away, but they still held a glare.

"What the hell were you thinking? When I say don't run away from me, I mean it!" He scowled. I simply locked my eyes at my feet, mustering up the courage to speak to him.

I swallowed before speaking. "He told me about you."

With my words, Harry's breathing became barely audible, but I still didn't bother to look at his facial features. To be honest, I still wanted to escape his presence, knowing what I was getting myself into if I stayed. The words that Devin had told me replayed freshly in my mind, and unfortunately, so did his touch. Cringing at the very thought of him, I made my best attempts to push the fresh memories away from my brain.

"Are you scared?"

At this I looked up at Harry to see his face almost looking guilty, with a visible anguish that I felt ache within my chest, jut where the heart was. It was still beating quickly. My eyes continued to study him, and in reply, I didn't say any of the answers that he thought I would.

"I am a dreamer," I said, earning a questioning look from him.

My lips and mind struggled to form the right thing to say to him. I was absolutely positive that this boy was the one that I saw every single night. His voice had the same husky, deep ring to it and his touch was just as soft and warm. Finally, I found the words to say to this stranger.

"You are my dream."

This obviously caught him by surprise. However, he seemed to understand each and every emotion that I felt towards him. He understood that I wasn't letting him go. He understood that I was still completely terrified by him. He understood that he was a frightening beast that had hypnotized my mind into staying with him. He understood what all of this meant.

I was getting myself into something worse than anything I could've imagined.

Notes

Hope you like it so far. Xx