Escapade - Larry Stylinson (Re-write)

II - Raspberry Rose

Louis froze.

The sirens were getting closer and the rain seemed to fall much heavier than it was a few seconds ago. He heard everything much louder all of a sudden, which meant that the gold-plated gun brought up to nudge against his temple was very quickly the only thing he could understand.

It nudged once more, before being pulled away. The man behind Louis pressed his chest against Louis' back and leant over to the handlebars of the bike.

"Fine. I'll do it myself."

The bike hurtled forwards, narrowly missing a curb, and roared down the street with Louis still on it. His motorbike usually calmed him, only right now he felt as if nothing in the world could stop him from screaming his head off. The police cars were chasing after him, and the man pressed to his back seemed to lean more and more over as the speed increased. The bike skidded right over a roundabout, straight over a flight of steps, down a grassy bank and through a long tunnel leading to a man-made river below a bridge.

It was under this bridge that the man stopped the motorbike. The sirens were loud, and Louis' ears were covered by his hands, yet as he tried to calm himself down, the police cars drove straight over the bridge, right past them.

Sheltered from the rain and light, the world suddenly became very quiet, and very soothing.

Louis sat up, shook his hands a few times to ground himself, and looked around. He could see the silhouette of a person beneath the bridge with him: A man, looking up at the road to make sure no one was chasing him. His hair seemed to be shoulder-length and curly, he wore a hoodie with a jacket on top, and he had long legs. That was all Louis could see.

Once the man had decided that he was safe, he turned to Louis and walked up to him. Once in front on the bike, he lifted an arm and pointed the gun to Louis' forehead, Louis saw two initials on the plating, but it was too dark to read them.

The stranger didn't shoot, nor did Louis speak, and so they stayed like that for a while.

"It's not loaded, you know."

The voice sounded younger than it had earlier, probably because the man now spoke clearly. He put the gun in his jacket. Louis watched him take out a cigarette and lighter. The orange glow hit a now-visible face.

The man was young, perhaps a few years older than Louis, with a handsome face and pink hair.

He had wide green eyes that looked up at Louis.

Just as their gaze met, the man cried out and threw his lighter to the ground where it bounced and fell with a "plop" in the water. A string of curse words came out of the man's mouth, followed by the sound of air blowing on a burnt finger.

Louis laughed.

It came very unexpectedly and stopped the stranger in his tracks. The man pulled a torch from his pocket and turned it on, shining it on Louis. The light stayed in his face as Louis was studied from head to toe, before being placed on the floor where they could both finally see each other clearly.

"Your hair is pink." Louis said, rocking from side to side.

"It's not pink! Why does everyone say that? It's Raspberry Rose. I don't have pink hair."

"It's pink and purple."

"It's raspberry rose with lavender tips." The man took out the gun and pointed it for the third time to Louis' head. "I'll shoot you."

Louis, who didn't have time to process the situation, said, "Are you the murderer everyone is looking for?"

The man replied, "What?"
He tapped the gun in his palm as if it were broken and looked back at Louis. His palms, like Zayn's, were tattooed with large black letters, but his read 'JACK' on his right, and 'JILL' on his left, "Would you like to find out?"