Cuff Me, Officer.

Chapter One-Hands in the Air

~Harry's P.O.V.~

The alley was dark and deserted, perfect conditions for what I usually did each Saturday morning. I set my bag down onto the pavement and dug through it, searching for the can of red spray paint I had brought. I found it, popped the cap off with my thumb, and set to work. I wasn't making a specific design, just random doodles and blasphemies, anything that would come to mind, really. When the paint had been all used up, I stepped back, sliding my hands into my back pockets, and admired my work.

This was my life. I woke up from the hands of my flatmate, think about how I could get in trouble, and find a way to do it. My days were all about making my father's face turn as red as the paint I had just used on his brand new-and very expensive-office building. As soon as someone reported the vandalism, I knew he'd be ballistic and send out a search party for me. It was how this sort of thing always went. I was just waiting for the glorious moment he'd finally give up trying to make me the future leader of his company. Business wasn't my forte, so what would I do with a large, international million dollar franchise all to myself? Father had sent me to a prestigious university a few months ago to study all different kinds of economics and business classes to 'prepare me for my vast and potentially great future', but I was kicked out on my third day for mouthing off to my teachers too much and getting caught egging my macroeconomics professor's car. Needless to say, my father wasn't happy, considering how much it cost to send me there.

I smiled at my handiwork and began to pick up my black duffle bag with all of my favorite trouble-making toys- cans of spray paint, a carton of confetti eggs(real ones smelled too much if I forgot to use them or exchange them for new ones), a roll of toilet tissue, and a small pocket knife. I walked towards the front of the alley, whistling a joyful tune. I couldn't wait for this afternoon. Maybe today was my lucky day.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!" A shout came from behind me.

And apparently it was.

I loved getting caught by police. I was a thrill and another scandalous blow to father's precious business. I smirked and brought my hands above my head, slowly turning around to face the cop who had his gun out and pointed towards me.

"Oh no. Looks like I was caught.." I looked at my painted fingers. "..red-handed."

He just narrowed his eyes at me behind his shades, still pointing his gun towards my chest. I nodded towards it. "I don't think having safety on will do much damage, mate."

The officer, whose face I couldn't see well due to the dim lighting, retorted. "Cute. Now get up against the wall."

I didn't get the chance to comply with his command before he had put away his gun and pushed me against the damp alley wall, cuffing my wrists tightly behind my back. "Woah there. Usually people are kind enough to supply me with a name and dinner first."

"Just shut up and walk." He stated gruffly.

I raised my eyebrows and grinned, though he couldn't see it. "Well you're not very nice, are you?"

"I don't have to be, Curly. Now get in the car." He pushed my head into the police car and slammed the door in my face. I took my chance to see which officer had the joy of catching me this time.

I didn't recognize this man. He had light brown hair, swept to the side in a windswept fringe. It was styled as though he'd just gotten out of bed, but it worked for him. His jawline was perfectly sculpted, a light stubble gracing his cheeks and chin. He wore tinted aviators, so I could see the shape of his eyes, but not the color. His biceps were impressive, and his shirt outlined his chest and abdomen, which didn't look to be too bad either.

He walked to the front of the car and got in. The window between the front seat and back was already open, so I leaned forward to talk. "You're new." I stated.

"And how would you know that?" He shot back, starting the car and driving towards the station.

I grinned. "I have a lot of...friends, if you will, at the station. They give me rides quite often."

He let out a puff of air through his nose, but otherwise said nothing.

I tilted my head, looking at him through the rear-view mirror. "So, what's your name?"

"Tomlinson." He replied coldly.

"Do you have a first name?" I said.

He paused, probably deciding whether to give his name or not. "Louis," he said after a few seconds.

"That's a nice name." I said, resting my chin on the window.

He didn't make any move to indicate he heard me, only pushed my head back with his elbow. I laughed, holding my chin. "Not one for conversation, are you Tommo?"

"Don't call me that."

I smiled and leaned back in my seat, staying silent for the rest of the ride.

This one was interesting. Usually the other cops didn't say anything to me, just told me I was under arrest. Some learned to close the window between the seats so I couldn't pester them. But no, not this one. He wasn't much of a talker, but he has this aura of respect around him. He sparked my interest, and I planned to get to know him better.

I closed my eyes and waited to get to the station, where no doubt my father would be waiting for me, his face crimson with anger and embarrassment. At that thought, I smiled.