Lennon.
“So you dropped out of uni to work in a bakery?” Zayn asked for the umpteenth time. That’s about as far as the conversation had gone about my interesting life. Everyone appeared too tipsy to be able to string together a comprehendible sentence.
Two hours at most we had been sat huddled together in the living room. It started off as quite a few people but slowly dimmed down to only eight of us. Things were still somewhat awkward. I think my staring on our first encounter would permanently scar Luke. It’s not so much that I felt like an outcast because I chose not to contribute to most of the conversations, partly because they would talk about things I knew nothing about.
I had one drink and then maybe another, and another. I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t even close to tipsy. For a bunch of grown men who discussed such crude things I at least thought they’d drink a decent brand of beer. The one they had stocked up on was very watery and the cider was even worse, it was so sour I almost spat out the mouthful I had. But it didn’t stop me drinking, if I was going to be forced to sit in a room amongst people I felt rather uncomfortable with I’d rather do it when I felt a slight buzz and everything seemed a little less real.
Harry was passed the point of tipsy, I determined he was drunk as soon as he pulled me to sit on his lap. I moved swiftly, only next to him but I wasn’t willing to forgive and forget straight away and cuddle in his arms. That’s not my style either. He grunted a little at my actions but once I settled down on the chair next to him and he swung his arm around my waist his mood lifted again. At least I knew what type of drunk Harry was; an affectionate one. It was better than an aggressive or angry on though I suppose.
“Yes.” I drew out slowly, sipping from my can of dishwater – or otherwise known as cheep alcohol.
“Did you not what to become a doctor or something?” Niall asked, leaning forward from his position on the floor. His legs crossed over with his arms resting on his knees.
“You have to be clever to be a doctor,” I mused playfully. I was aware I probably sounded uptight and unable to have fun but based on the people I was conversing with, I didn’t really want to let go. They weren’t friends, housemates if that. They weren’t as bad as Emma and Jason, nothing could top them.
“So what was you studying? Art or something? That requires no thinking don’t it?” Louis asked, his slang was eye watering. If he was a book I would have red crossed half of his previous sentence.
“It does. But no, I did English.”
“Ah a young Shakespeare!” He half shouted with glee, raising his own can in the air almost as if it was a toast. I stared at him perplexed and amused.
“Not quite.” I chuckled, feeling Harry’s fingertips dance along my hipbone after his hand had settled underneath my shirt cheekily.
“So why’d you quit or do you really like baking that much?” Harry asked, turning his head to face mine.
“Tutor was a dick.” I deadpanned before gulping down another mouthful.
“That’s it? There has to be something more than.” Louis quickly quipped. “Did you sleep with a guy in your class and he didn’t call you back and you were to embarrassed to ever see him again?” He seemed far too happy and far too confident with his accusation.
“No. I couldn’t care less if a guy calls me back or not.”
“Give many guys your number?” Harry questioned as he nudged my knee with his. His eyebrows were doing a little dance on his forehead.
“No.” I answered sincerely.
“I bet little miss Lennon gets around a lot, doesn’t she?” The wink at the end of Niall’s statement didn’t make it playful enough to not take it offensively. I cringed at the nickname he insisted on using and I felt a little hurt by the fact he assumed I slept around a lot. There was nothing wrong with having sex but I wasn’t the sort of person to open my legs for anyone and everyone.
“No.” I repeated a little too quickly and eagerly. Niall’s eyebrows rose at my sudden answer and then smiled with a glint in his eye.
“Isn’t it what all uni students do though in their first year? Try and sleep with as many people as possible?”
“I was only there for a semester.”
“So what was it, ten, fifteen, twenty?”
“None.” I replied, teeth gritted and the can in my hand slowly being crushed.
“None?” He repeated, laughing amusingly. I felt more than uncomfortable with all the eyes on me, I felt like I was being judged with the spotlight shining bright on me.
“I bet you’re into older men then aren’t you? How many have them have you canoodled with?”
“Jesus don’t say canoodled and no I’m not into older men.” I grimaced and stood up, having had enough of the current topic I wanted out.
“Feisty, are you like that in bed too?”
“Will you shut up about my sex life? Bloody hell.”
“Niall-“ Harry went to interject but the drunk Irish had other ideas.
“You’ve never done it ‘ave you?”
I didn’t have a response to the question he put forth. Because it was hardly a question, more of a statement and he already knew the answer and my overwhelming silence gave it away to everyone else. I bit down on my bottom lip, staring long and hard at the boy who was now sitting looking pleased with himself. I folded my arms across my chest and turned around as I spoke to no one in particular.
“I’m going to bed.”
I heard a low whistle as I left the room followed by the uproar of a conversation, probably one I didn’t want to hear. I climbed the stairs quickly and trapced through the hallway until I reached the bedroom. I sighed loudly as I shut the door behind myself, finally feeling like I could breathe without my every move being watched.
I grabbed my pyjamas on the way to the bathroom and changed inside, brushing my teeth as well as re-braiding my knotted hair. I was a little startled that when I reappeared in the bedroom Harry was there too. I almost jumped back when he looked at me from his position on the bed. He looked less drunk than ten minutes ago, his eyes were more alert and he was smiling like a fool anymore.
“Are you alright?” He spoke once we were both settled with the presence of one another in the room.
“I’m fine. I’m a big girl, it was just a bit of banter and whatever.” I replied, moving over towards the bed and sat on my side. I checked my phone and smiled at the screen when it showed I had one new message.
“If you say so,” he muttered before he headed into the bathroom himself.
I unlocked my phone and read over the text. ‘He fuckin ate my spicy beef pot noodle, shit is goin down.’ Apparently Dom was furious with Jason, nothing new there, except this time it was over a pot noodle. I let out a small laugh as I read over the message again.
I typed out a quick reply; I’d take a stolen pot noodle over this place right now.’
‘That bad?’
‘I’m thinking of running away and joining a nunnery.’
‘You wouldn’t last one day in a nunnery.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying goodnight lennon, remember why you’re still there. night Xx.’
‘Night butthead xx.’
“Something funny?” I jumped at Harry’s voice and his close proximity. I hadn’t heard him leave the bathroom let alone appear over my shoulder. I threw my phone down onto the small table looking oddly suspicious but I was still shaken up from him startling me.
“Just Dom.” I mumbled whilst getting into bed.
Harry walked around the bed, switching the light off as he went and then climbed into bed too. I curled my arms into the duvet, enjoying the warmth until it was rudely taken away from me.
“Okay we need to have a serious discussion about this.”
“What?” Harry mumbled into his pillow, his figure was turned away from me as I sat up in bed and propped myself up against the pillows.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes you. Duvet hogger.”
“Duvet hogger?” He chuckled, his voice was laced with tiredness.
He spun over and tilted his head upwards, a cheeky smile prominent on his face. I pouted at his amused expression, he knew exactly what he had been doing, he made that clear. I pulled the duvet back but he was wrapped so tightly in my hands just slipped straight off the material.
“You’d get more duvet if you didn’t sleep right on the edge of the bed.”
“I don’t!”
“You do.”
“Fine.” I shuffled an inch and a half over before trying to grab the duvet again but this gave him even more motivation to wind me up. “Harry.”
“Lennon.” He drew out my name just like I had done. “I don’t bite.”
“I know.”
“Do you not trust me?”
“You haven’t given me reason to trust you.”
“Have I given you a reason not to trust me?” He quipped back twice as fast.
I was left stunned and once again I didn’t have a reply. Sucking it up I moved across the bed so I practically in the middle. I slithered down the pillows until I was lying down properly. Harry was still smiling but I refused to meet his playful stare. I laid flat on my back waiting for the duvet to be given to me.
He threw half of the duvet on top of me but before I could wrap myself up in the newly warm material he swung his arm over my stomach underneath the duvet. He was trying to get me to roll over and face him, his fingers gently trying to pull my body.
“Harry, what are you doing?” I muttered, sorting out the duvet around our woven bodies. He was making things more awkward than they needed to be.
“Sharing body heat.”
“Thanks but no thanks. You’re like a bloody radiator.”
“Oh c’mon you know you’re dying to lie in my arms.”
“You’re so drunk.” I mumbled but I couldn’t help but laugh at his mischievous face staring at me though the darkness. I could still smell the alcohol on his breath despite having brushed his teeth.
“Kiss me goodnight.” He yawned.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I want you to.”
“Well I want a six figure salary and a holiday home in Bora Bora. Not going to happen.”
“Please?”
“Go to sleep Harry.”
Surprisingly he fell asleep pretty much straight away. His arm was still lying across my stomach; he had a killer grip around my waist stopping me from moving away too far. I turned over however, although I turned away from him, I couldn’t sleep with his alcohol-induced breath being breathed on me.
His behaviour took ninety-degree turns almost every hour. He was beyond enigmatic; I couldn’t figure him out to any extent. I tried to fall asleep straight away but having done nothing all day I wasn’t tired. So I stayed awake thinking about everything and anything.
I wanted to know why everyone practically shunned me as if I was the reincarnation of the devil. What I apparently didn’t know and if harry was in my position why would he have run away or worse? Did that mean if he was me, he’d killed himself? I knew I was wanted by the East but was I really that valuable? I didn’t know anything, killing me wouldn’t accomplish anything except another tally on the kill chart. I wasn’t worth anything to them, I wasn’t even worth anything to the South, they were basically just babysitting me and I felt like a burden.
I had concluded I wasn’t going to get any answers from Harry, let alone any of the others. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to know, but surely I had a right to know? And I was going to find out one way or another. I made a mental note in my head of all the questions I wanted answers too, some were a bit obscure and others would most likely forever remain a mystery. I pictured a sticky note in my mind with the questions all scribbled on. I used the technique of imagining things on sticky notes in my mind to help me remember them better, we were taught it in one of the first ever university lectures and it was probably the only thing I learnt there.
Lennon’s series of unfortunate questions;
· - Why did the East want me?
· - Why did Harry kiss me in the club? (It was still bugged in my mind, I said I would forget it, but it was itching under my skin).
· - Where was Floyd and what were they doing to him? (If he was still alive of course – the thought of him being tortured or worse made my stomach churn).
· - Why were the gangs fighting?
· - Does Harry have a split personality? Because his mood swings are giving me a serious headache.
· - What is the missing puzzle piece in all of this?
At some point during the night I had drifted into an unconventional slumber. It wasn’t the best sleep I’ve ever had. Harry tossed and turned most of the night and in his drunken state spent most of the night snoring like a wilder beast. I did try and push him off his back but he was stubborn even in his sleep. I even tried pulling all the duvet off him so he would freeze, wake up and then let me sleep without his musical mouth, but alas he was just as strong unconscious as he was when he was awake. No wonder he didn’t have a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be able to understand how anyone would willingly sleep in the same bed as him.
I checked my phone at six in the morning, yawning profusely at the same time. The light stung my eyes and made me cringe. I set it back down on the table and slipped out of the bed. I crept into the bathroom, used the toilet, brushed my teeth - the cheep alcohol taste annoyingly still lingered on my taste buds - and ran my fingers idly through my hair. It was too early to try and look presentable.
I left the bathroom, crept back through the bedroom and slowly opened the door. I pulled the handle upwards stopping the hinges from squeaking and slithered out of the small slit in the doorway. I breathed out heavily once I was alone in the dead silent corridor. You could hear a pin drop at the other side of the house it was so quiet.
I tiptoed through the rest of the house avoiding all the creaky floorboards by sticking to the edges. After creeping down the stairs I determined I’d make an awful ninja, the floor was so loud I was surprised I was the only awake still. I stood at the bottom of the staircase for half a minute, just listening. When I couldn’t hear anything, at all I decided it was probably safe to continue.
I headed towards the office, feeling like some sort of spy as I kept checking behind me making sure I wasn’t being watched. I twisted the door handle and I never even thought about whether it would be locked or not. I swore under my breath when I jiggled the handle and it wouldn’t budge.
I didn’t know how much time I had so I sprinted into the kitchen, pulled out several drawers and rummaged through each one, forgetting that I had to keep quiet. Luckily when I pulled out something I could work with, it was still silent everywhere else. I quietly put everything back and hurried back towards the office. I checked to make sure I was still alone before shoving the flat-ended screwdriver into the lock. I was well aware it could potentially break the lock and this could all be for nothing.
My eyes lit up when I heard the familiar sound of the lock clicking. I yanked the screwdriver out of the lock before hurrying into the office and swiftly shutting the door behind me. I gazed around the room, once again taking in how big it was. The bloodstain on the middle of the carpet only brought back vivid memories of the other day. The captive’s words were still plagued in my mind. His eyes. What did that even mean if it meant anything at all? All these questions were beginning to stress me out to the point I felt like I was suffocating in the dark.
Knowing I couldn’t spend too long being nosey, I walked across the room and sat down at the desk in the overly large swivel chair. I would have been lying if I said I didn’t spin around in circles for a good minute or two, which wasn’t the best idea since I suffered motion sickness.
I pulled opened one of the drawers which luckily wasn’t locked underneath the desk and took a good sift through. But I didn’t find anything of interest. I found a couple maps but half of them were dated to at least twenty years ago, which seemed a little odd to keep but they must have had some importance to still be there. Or Paul was very sentimental.
All of the drawers around the desk were pretty empty which would explain why they hadn’t been bothered to be locked. I snatched the screwdriver up of the desk where I had put it down previously and stood up, making my way over to the filing cabinet next to the window. It was locked that was the first clue that there was something important hidden inside, the second clue was the big ‘To be kept locked at all times’ sign stuck on the first drawer.
I pushed the screwdriver into the lock and was surprised by the fact it unlocked it too. Who knew watching so many films could actually come in handy one day? The top drawer was filled with files, each one had a label sticking out of it so I could skim past the ones I didn’t want to look at. In fact I didn’t know what any of them actually meant. The labels were all vague and some of them were just dates or names that meant nothing to me.
I pulled out a random file, determined to find out what exactly was so top secret it had to be kept hidden away. Flicking open the brown folder I scanned over the words none of it making sense to me. I found more maps, although these ones were scrawled all over in bright red marker pen. Central London was circled more than once with the name ‘Axel Diomedes’ underlined underneath it. I’d never heard of him but even his name made him sound unpleasant.
I put the file back in the drawer, shut the first one and pulled out the second one. This was a little more helpful. It had the current and future shipments from the South detailed inside the first file I read through. It still didn’t tell me any of the answers I wanted to know but it was still pretty fascinating.
I was more interested in finding out about who the East were and what they wanted but I couldn’t find their file. I found all the other gangs but not theirs. I chewed on my bottom lip, perplexed by the missing file. I flicked through the folders again thinking I had missed it but I didn’t, but something else caught my eye.
There was a folder labelled ‘Central London Gang’. I didn’t know there was a gang inhabited in the middle, from what I had been told there was only four. Why was this one being kept in the dark? I thought maybe it was a code name for the East so I flicked through it however it wasn’t the East, it was a whole new gang. There was no new information about it since the late 1990’s but the same name sprung off the page ‘Axel Diomedes’. Well that solved the mystery of who he was but what happened to the fifth London gang?
I read slowly through the file, reading every word, in between the lines and every sentence twice in case I missed something. I continued reading through, it didn’t say a lot about the members themselves, just what they did. The fifth gang was apparently ruthless, owners of the middle of the city and utterly uncivilised.
I turned the next page where a very blurry, photocopied portrait picture of Axel Diomedes appeared at the top of the page. You couldn’t make out his features, in fact you couldn’t really see him at all, the picture was truly terrible. I ignored the quality of the print though and let my eyes flow down the rest of the page. It was like a small biography about the man in question. I was about to read the next section when a cough behind me caused me to jump out of my skin and drop the file on the floor. My breathing was extremely ragged as I slowly spun around to face my observer.
“Find anything interesting?”
Shit.
I lost the power to speak as Harry closed the door and strolled over, dragging his feet. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants but his chest was still fully exposed. His hair looked as if he’d been running his hands through it and his eyes were still half closed in the midst of his tiredness.
I stood entirely still, gulping visibly, as he got closer and closer. He stopped a foot away from me, bent down and picked up the file I had dropped. He slid his finger under the cover and read over the first page briefly before bringing his gaze back to mine, raising an eyebrow at me.
He was waiting for me to reply but I still couldn’t pull a sentence together, I was just gulping air unwantedly. My heart was beating erratically and my hands were adorned with sweat. No doubt he could sense the fear in my eyes. I didn’t know if there would be any consequences for my actions but his hostile vibe concluded I wasn’t going to be let off straight away.
He took another step forward, barely breathing space between our pyjama clad bodies. His shirtless chest was pressed up against mine. His arms flexed themselves as he rested them on the filing cabinet around my head; he still had the file in one hand. His eyes never left mine, waiting and wanting an answer.
“Was it a good read?” He asked, rephrasing his initial question.
“Not really.” I responded, my voice finally appearing. His towering body was a lot more intimidating than it had ever appeared before.
“You know it’s rude to go through someone else’s stuff right?”
I nodded as his face slowly moved closer and closer to mine. I could feel his breath on my face at this point. His freshly cleaned teeth smelt like fresh mint. His eyes were so close it felt like he was peering into my soul.
I felt his hand suddenly place itself on my chest, right above my heart. I jolted back at his sudden touch but I didn’t move anywhere, I was right up against the cabinet after all. My heart was pounding against my ribcage so hard it was almost audible.
“Is that for me?” He whispered in an alluring manner. His eyes were closed as his fingertips tapped along my flesh, playing along to the rhythm of my heart. His breathing slowed down, his breaths becoming deeper as they fanned my face. I could almost feel his lips on mine as he continued to move closer and closer.