Apocalypse | L.S [Completed]

I

Walking through the lively rows of desks, much to Louis displeasure, he finds himself looking for his personal assistant, Stan. Even though he had never voiced it, Stan always had an objection regarding the latest deal. So, Louis isn't surprised when he finds a resignation letter instead of Stan inside his cubicle.

Just another problem to Louis' never-ending list. Pinching the bridge between his brows, Louis lets out a stressful exhale before calling out for his floor manager, Daniel Winston. With a nervous knock and a firm "come in." from Louis, Daniel scrambles in looking edgy as ever. His rosy plumb cheeks, light French moustache and middle-aged belly are enough to make anyone believe he is straight out of a poorly written comedy play but it isn't enough to humour Louis.

Scanning the fidgety figure in front of him for a moment with brutal cold eyes, Louis motions for Daniel to take a seat. Seating himself on the fine leather and trying his best to cover the agitation but failing miserably, Daniel riles  Louis further. But Louis maintains his posture, not giving away any hints of pique, just reading the trembling figure with blank blues and clearing his throat after a proper inspection. "As you have heard, Mr Winston, Mr Lucas has decided to resign from his position as my personal assistant," Louis informs, earning a knowing nod from Daniel. "Y-yes, Mr Tomlinson, I've heard." Louis hums in acknowledgement and leans forward, resting his blazer-clad elbows on the firm desk and fixing his eyes with Daniel's, sending a wave of anxiety through the front man. "I'd like you to interview eligible candidates for the post and pick one of them to be my personal assistant. And I do expect you to not disappoint me. Are we clear, Mr Winston?" Louis asks, emphasising his needs. "Y-yes, Mr Tomlinson." Daniel stutters and waits for Louis' further instruction.

"That's all, Mr Winston, I would really appreciate it if you put in your greatest efforts and choose a proper candidate. You may leave now." with a nod and a clumsy attempt at getting up from the lavish chair, Daniel exits the room leaving Louis in his lonesome solace.

Lighting up a cigarette and replacing the silence with the poison-repleted smoke, Louis picks up his phone and dials a number, a sense of apology washing through him unwillingly. "Lucas, Stan Lucas," he says in his cold, merciless tone and with that he ends the call, no other words exchanged, a silent agreement.

*

After a few tiresome and vexatious meetings with his business partners, Louis is close to bursting out. The absence of his p.a taking a toll on him and the lousy business partners are not aiding much, instead every lame joke they cracked felt like a nail to Louis' coffin bursting out. Those ugly forced laughs remind Louis of the fictitious nature of the people around him. At that moment, Louis realises, he's surrounded himself with foxes and no matter how strong a lion is, he'll always be outnumbered by a skulk of cunning foxes.

Now sitting in his shrine of silence and smoke, Louis battles the urge to rive every fucking thing in his sight and instead just focuses on the smoke filling his lungs and the dark scotch in his hand mirroring his thoughts. He wishes for nothing more than to just call it a day and return to the forlorn abode he calls his home.

The blaring wails of silence are abruptly shattered when an irascible raven-haired man barges in, knocking seeming like a foreign act to him. Standing in front of Louis in all his glory, tall and straight, the scent of kosher cologne and cigars reeking from his elaborately tailored suit-covered body with a bland expression on his godly face gives Louis a sense of familiarity.

"Malik," Louis breathes out, stubbing the cigarette on his disgustingly fancy ashtray, attention focused on the gorgeous man in front. "Don't 'Malik' me, Tommo, you don't get to do that after sentencing Lucas for nothing. You can't just keep on using people like pawns and sacrificing them with every fucking move! People have started to question, Louis. I won't go down with you. We've risked a lot to reach where we are now, I won't lose it because of your indecisive mind." The raven-haired man says in a hauntingly calm voice, the calm masking the underlying acrimony.

"People will say what they want to. You and I both know that they have got nothing against us, Zayn, we've made sure of that. And cutting off Lucas was my way of making sure it stays that way. I enjoy the power I hold just as much as you, and I plan on not fucking it up any time soon." Louis replies just as calmly, with no hint of anger or annoyance. He studies Zayn's blank face, searching for a response; he gets none, as always.

"I trust you, Louis, remember that. And I hope you return the same trust and respect it enough to not fuck everything up." Zayn states after a delayed minute, with nothing but sincerity in his voice. "You know I do, Malik, you all are the only ones, you and Payne I mean. You know I've got no one but the two of you, and I will not risk shit for it. You have my word, always, that I will not put you in a position where you have to worry about losing everything we've created." Louis replies with the same sincerity and a hint of affection; something for Zayn's eyes only.

Offering Zayn a cigarette and glass filled with scotch and ice, Louis finally cracks a small smile, grateful for his best mate to show up after the hideous day he's had. One of the two people he can let his guard down with.

"So what are you going to do about the p.a post now? Don't think Lucas can work from the afterlife." Zayn chuckles, the effects of the hard liquor seeping in. Louis brings the fuming roll to his thin lips, inhaling deeply, and exhaling through his nose after a moment. "I've asked Winston to arrange me one, asked him to properly look after the perfect candidate. The twat almost shat his pants." Louis cackles, passing the cigarette to Zayn who in return chuckles and takes a drag. "You are too hard on the man, Lou. With those cheeks, he might burst out any moment. Stop tormenting the man." "I do nothing of that sort, I simply stay in my professional poise. He just happens to be a very flustered man who probably takes pressure pills." Louis shrugs, taking a sip from the crystal-cut glass and earning himself another laugh from the hazel-eyed man.

"Whatever you say, Tommo, but do you think he will choose a trustable one? I mean, eventually, all of them find out anyway." Zayn says, voice almost as if stating a fact, sharp and steady as a judge. "I don't know Z, I'll test them for a month or summat...... I don't know Z, I'll- I'll decide with time." Louis' voice drips with annoyance and uncertainty. "Whatever you do, Louis, just don't end them up like Lucas." And Louis wishes nothing more than that, he truly fucking does.

~~~~~

Thoughts?