Blood Red Lipstick [L.S.] ✓

Ch. 9; Backstory.

"We should make Harry jealous." Zayn says from the floor, where he's been sitting, typing furiously on his laptop, holding Liam's phone and iPad in one hand, Liam's laptop connected to his own, with Louis' laptop sitting open beside him, with the details of every target.

"How?" Louis asks, absently twirling a knife between his fingers, Liam flinching every time the blade points at him. 

"I don't know? Snog me or something?" Zayn asks. "He seems the jealous type, you know?" 

"You're gonna pick a fight with a private assassin? Do you have a death wish?!" Louis asks, and Zayn shrugs. "He's more criminal than us, Zayn."

"It won't be that bad." Zayn reasons.

"Mate, he could kill you with his fucking shoe." Louis says, and Zayn stands up, walking over and kissing Louis aggressively.

Literally seconds later, Harry waltzes into the room, this time in his usual attire. "Ew, stop being gay." 

"How did you get in here?" Louis asks, pulling away from a smug Zayn.

"Stole your room key." Harry shrugs, flopping down on the bed, ankles crossed. 

"What- it was in my pocket!" Louis yells. 

"I know." Harry says. "You're quite unobservant." He comments. "I'm currently in possesion of your phone, wallet, and that little pocket knife of yours." He then says, pulling the items out from his handbag and handing them to Louis. 

"You managed to pickpocket Louis?" Zayn asks incredulously, sliding off of Louis' lap.

"Eh." Harry shrugs. "Once pickpocketed Kim K. Stole a necklace. Sold it back to her afterwards, said I'd found it on the street."

"You're evil." Zayn chuckles.

"No, I'm smart." Harry says, sitting up. "Now why the fuck were you two snogging?"

"Wanted to." Louis says.

"So if I wanted to kick Zayn in the head, which, as I'm sure you know, could quite easily kill him, I could?" Harry asks, eyes narrowing, and Zayn shuffles away from him.

"Well, no." Louis says awkwardly.

"Figures." 

Harry gets up, wandering around the room, heels clicking on the floor. He walks over to Zayn, pulling something from his pocket, grabbing Zayn's chin.

"There." Harry says after a few moments, and Louis has no idea what just happened. 

"What did you-" Louis begins, as Harry hands Zayn a mirror.

"Put eyeliner on him." He explains. "He's got weirdly nice eyes, just thought it would enhance them."

Zayn is blushing as he gets back to work.

***

"How did you end up being an assassin, Harry?" Zayn asks. They're all lying on the floor, passing a bottle between them. Zayn's shirtless, and weirdly obsessed with Harry's thigh tattoo. 

"Well, was homeless at 15, lived out my own little Aladdin. You know, gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat. Got smart, stole things for people who paid me, petty rich dudes with one too many vendettas. Which is why I got so good at pickpocketing. Anyway, I was like, 17? At this point, guys started paying me to suck their cocks, whatever, as well as the stealing. Um, one of the guys I stole for gave me a knife, ended up killing a guy who tried to kill me with it, it was fun, turns out I genuinely didn't give a shit that I'd just murdered someone. I ended up in a gang, guys that made me dress like them and act like them, as in straight, and I got sick of it. Left, started doing whatever the fuck I want because, well, I wanted to. I reasoned that it was either assassin who kills 'random' hook-ups or prostitue, and by this point I'd learned several ways how to kill someone during sex, and I chose assassin. Better money, you know."

"Huh." Louis says. "Me and Liam just got recruited by our boss after we almost got arrested for arson or something stupid and dangerous like that. Zayn tagged along, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Zayn says. "How'd you end up homeless?" 

"Eh, you know," Harry begins, waving a hand through the air dismissively. "Flamboyant and gay teen, friends with the wrong people, did stupid shit, smoked stupid shit, drove my mum crazy with worry and my dad crazy with more anger against me. They split up, over me, naturally. 'He's gay, Anne! It's unnatural!' 'He's your son, Des!', um, she moved, and I ended up with him for god knows what reason. I stole a car, crashed said car, fucker kicked me out. I have a sister, you know. Haven't seen her in eleven years."

"What about the partner?" Zayn asks. "Who was he?"

"His name was James." Harry says. This entire time, he's been talking like these things don't matter to him. Now he sounds sad. "He was the only member of the gang who supported me, and he left with me. He had my back. I tried to save him, but he told me to just leave him be, that there's no point. He had nothing to live for anyway. Not when your best friend is a heartless and apathetic assassin." He chuckles dryly, rolling his eyes. "And now I don't trust anyone."

"You trusted me." Louis says. 

"No. I don't trust any of you." Harry says, frowning. "I just couldn't kill you."

"That's trust, though, right?" Louis asks.

"No. It's not." Harry says angrily. "If I trusted you I wouldn't have all my weapons on me right now, would I? We're in a secure location for crying out loud."

Zayn frowns. "It's ok to be vulnerable, Harry."

"Last time I was vulnerable I fucked old guys to feed myself." Harry snaps. "I'm going to bed, see you in the morning." He says, stomping towards the door and slamming it shut behind him.

The quiet in the room is unnerving, a pregnant pause, uneasy and loud.

"That was awkward." Zayn mutters.

"You're the idiot who kept pestering him about his past." Louis bristles.

"He acts like he genuinely couldn't give a shit about anything, Louis! I didn't know it was possible to strike a nerve." Zayn pouts.

Liam, who they put in the bathtub because they actually want the bed, kicks the side of the ceramic again.

"Stop that, Liam." Louis growls. "You have to prove you won't kill us all and then you'll be untied."

Zayn huffs, flopping onto the bed. "Life was a lot simpler before we met Harry."

"Life was a lot simpler before we met Michael."