The Criminal's Eyes - Daniel Howell

Chapter 16

A/N: It is 4:44am. AM. My eyes feel drunk and I can taste colours.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Ciara and I exchange looks as we hear him approach the door and she quickly pushes me into the en-suite just before he barges in after a struggle with the doorknob, managing to unlock it from the outside.

"Oh... Ciara... where's Kira?" I hear him ask from inside the small bathroom, and I can imagine the look of realisation on his face to match his tone of voice that Ciara had heard his threat from outside.

"In the loo," Ciara replies indifferently, as if it's obvious.
"Are you trying to tell me she's been in the bathroom for forty minutes?" Phil says, and I can hear the edge in his voice as if he's about to argue with Ciara, or even threaten her for assuming he's stupid enough to buy her story.

"I'm not trying to tell you, I am telling you," I hear her say. Oh, God, Ciara please don't get into a fight with Phil, please tone the sass down.

"I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you this but I think she's got diarrhoea," I hear her say without shame, and don't know whether to feel embarrassed or burst out laughing.

"Oh... Oh." Is the response and, man, could I get used to Phil being at a loss for words. "W-well then, if that's the case... I apologise for intruding," he finishes, and I can imagine how flustered he must be.

Thankfully, I hear him leave the room and the door latch, and I go back into the bedroom where I see Ciara trying to refrain from laughing until she knows Phil can't hear from outside.

"Diarrhoea? Really?!" I pretend to be mad, and that's enough to send her over the edge, and she falls back onto the bed in a fit of laughter, and I just watch her, glad she's my best friend but still worried about the whole situation we're in. "Give it ten minutes and we'll go back down, he's not thick enough to buy this for much longer, unfortunately." I say and let out a sigh as she gains her composure.

"But... c'mon theres gotta be some way outta this! What're you gonna do, carry on pretending to be his girlfriend until he wants you to do something you don't, or until you can't take it and he tries to batter you? And what about Dan?" she asks.

"We need to find him." I say, staring at a random spot on the wall as I think. "When we do, maybe he can help us, or at least give advice?"

"Yeah, well, maybe I'd have been able to judge his personality more if you had actually let me meet him," Ciara says, referencing back to the balcony.

"Well maybe I would have let you meet him if you had told me you knew about him in the first place." I say, and she laughs in defeat.

"...fairs," she laughs, and I smile at her. "What matters now is finding him, hopefully we should have a lead soon," she tries to assure me when she sees the hope gone from my face. "Don't worry, Kira, it'll turn out okay," she smiles and rubs my back in reassurance.

"I hope so"

* * * * *

We go downstairs after a good few minutes to find Derek seeing his friends out the front door, and when he turns around it's as if he's completely missing the icy look Ciara is shooting him, because he approaches me and whispers 'hey, what's up with her?' as we walk back into the games room.

Ciara hears his not-so-subtle whisper and goes into more of a huff, and Phil stands as we enter; my mother and Lady Lester nowhere to be seen.

"Kira! Hey, are you okay?" He asks, and I raise my eyebrow, why does he care? I sit next to him, Ciara and Derek sitting on different sofas after Derek fails in an attempt to sidle up to her and figure out why she's mad.

Phil turns the TV on, either to fill the awkward silence or merely for background sound, but he leans into me and says, "look, I know you must think I'm the hugest jerk in the world right now, and it might surprise you, but I actually do care about you. Are your... bowels... okay now? I'm sorry for rushing you upstairs. If you need medicine just say," he says in an attempt to make amends with me. I don't let him.

I shoot daggers back at him. "If you actually cared about me you wouldn't fucking be forcing me to do this. You're messed. In the head. And the sad thing is, if you had carried on how you used to be, I probably would've fallen for you anyway, but congrats on screwing that up!" I snap, before sinking into my side of the sofa and crossing my arms out of frustration, and I see a flicker of regret cloud his eyes for a split second before I turn away from him and a red flush starts to creep up from his neck onto his cheeks. Good, he better feel bad.

I stare blankly at the newsreader on the screen, her voice boring into my mind, and Phil tries to put his arm around me a few times but I shrug him off. Then it's as if his personality changes again and his arm is around my waist, gripping me dangerously tight, soliciting a warning, and he whispers so quietly I can barely hear him: "It's all because I love you," his tone of voice makes me uneasy. I turn to the side to look at him and there is a crazed look in his eyes, the intensity of the blue making it worse rather than soothing me, and the corners of his mouth are twitching slightly, his eyebrows raised. If I didn't know any better I'd say I was dealing with a psychopath.

I try to distract myself, I know there's no point in fighting him and, frankly, I don't have the energy to. The tension in the room between the four of us is so thick you could cut it mid-air, and I try to concentrate on the words spilling out of the mouth of the newsreader reporting from somewhere outside, I can see her struggling to read off of the autocue as the wind blows her hair over her eyes.

"It seems that the accused is still not known whether to be guilty for this case, but looking at the scene..." Her voice fills the room and I'm more interested in the stores behind her than the story.

I'm about to reach forward for the remote and change the channel when something catches my eye.

In the back, a hooded man walks past with his head down. Perfectly normal, right? Except... he walks past again. Then again. Each time his hands in a different shape.

I pay more attention and realise every time he walks past a different amount of fingers are up, with the occasional 'O' shape made by his thumb and pointer finger; he does this eleven times and on the twelfth makes a fist, going straight back to the same sequence after.

I look to my right to see Phil and Derek both on their phones, I look to my left and see Ciara looking back at me and then nodding toward the screen; she sees it too.

Phil doesn't notice me get my phone out, he doesn't notice me open the 'Notes' app. I don't know what's telling me to, but I need to know what this guy is doing. Something is telling me I need to, I can feel it in my gut.

I wait until he makes a fist and goes back to the sequence from the start.

Walks past... makes an 'O' shape... 0

Walks past... holds up a hand and two fingers... 7

Walks past... 5

A minute later I have the full eleven digits, and I internally kick myself for not figuring it out sooner that it's a phone number.

He does it for a few more minutes, and I check I have the right numbers, but then the reporter begins to wrap up what she's saying and I panic in case I've messed some of it up.

To my surprise, the man turns towards the camera for the first time, and I notice the glint of something beneath his hood, and he lifts his head up long enough for me to see.

He's wearing Dan's mask from the party.

This is my sign.

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A/N I'm so sorry for the crap chapter I had really bad writers block and I didn't want to not update for ages and yeah I'm gonna pass out thank you my little chocolate chips ❤️