Shift ☆ Louis Partridge

6 | Sucker-Punch

☆

[y/n]

_

"DON'T YOU DARE," Louis laughed, "I'm paying."

I had reiterated to the boy that I was perfectly comfortable paying for my own ice cream bowl, but he seemed to have made it his life mission to stop me from even touching my wallet.

"You can't stop me," I smirked, reaching for my pocket.

He grinned. "I can."

Before I knew what his devious mind was up to, he snatched both of my hands into his, holding them captive behind my back as he slipped out his own wallet with the other. I tried to wriggle out of his grip, but alas, no use.

Even though I was unable to twist around, I could sense the smug look on his face as he handed his card to the cashier in front of us. This whole time, I must have forgotten to notice that he was rather witty when it came to doing things his way—once again, his awkward personality had gone flying out the window.

"Shame," he said, finally letting go of my hands, "guess you couldn't pay."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm getting you back for this, Partridge."

"Don't hold your breath, Tewks."

Okay, he wins. I can't handle that nickname, and I never will, so just plan my funeral already.

As soon as our ice cream bowls were slid across the marble counter, we glossed over the small shop and made our way towards an empty table by the window. We had a perfect view of the busy road, with Louis' bicycle chained to a lamppost outside the door.

"So, tell me about yourself," Louis said, spooning a glob of ice cream into his mouth.

I did the same. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything I don't know."

"How specific," I laughed, glancing away momentarily. I didn't really know what he managed to figure out from the short amount of time we spent running around London, but I decided to cover the basics. "I want to be a botanist, I love Enola Holmes, and my last name is Ashling."

"I knew two of those things already," he noted complacently, "but the third is interesting."

I cocked a brow. "Really?"

"Ash-ling," he said, stretching out his words, "means dreams and visions."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I have a knack for names," he smiled, grabbing another spoonful, "which is something about me that you now know. Your turn again."

We fell into a game of getting to know each other, and neither of us noticed that we had finished eating an hour later. According to Louis, his favorite emoji was a flower bouquet, he was starting to learn how to play guitar, and he liked tea (as do many of us here in London).

And we might have spoken for longer, if I hadn't turned my head to pick up my spoon.

As soon as I did so, I noticed a suspicious figure hovering around Louis' bicycle, their hands shoved deep into the pockets of their black trousers as they scanned the area. I felt a shiver run up my spine.

"Louis..." I mumbled, squinting my eyes out the window, "Louis I think—"

Before I could finish my sentence, my hypothesis was proven correct. The shady suspect I had been eyeing a few seconds before soon whipped out a wire cutter from their pocket, snapping the bike lock off of the lamp post. It fell to the ground just as my heart dropped too.