Revenge (Louis Tomlinson Love Story - Sequel to Just One Look)

Chapter 10 - A Painfully Slow Wait

The ending of this Chappie is KINDA DRAMATIC. JUST WARNING YA :P Enjoy xx

*********************************************************************

Unknown POV

"What even is this?" I complained to myself, scanning the extremely confusing list in front of me. "Why can't I just find a bloody flight?"

My heart was still pounding after my escape from the trunk of Bullet's car, and my mind was reeling with possibilities of how he will find me and torture me. This isn't how I imagined hell to be, but it definitely serves its purpose of scaring and stressing me out. After hailing a cab, I tried to calm myself down, but the adrenaline was still pumping around my body and I found myself shaking in the padded seat.

What if Bullet and Yo-Yo find me? What will happen when they do?

I shook my head, cracking my knuckles and scrunching my nose in thought. I really am stupid.

"Sir, may I help you?" a friendly voice piped up from behind me, and I turned away from the perplexing flight schedule to find an employee of the airport. Smiling weakly, I nodded and followed her over to her counter.

"I need a flight to this destination," I explained to the kind woman, pointing to the paper map I clutched in my hand. "Preferably as soon as possible."

"Ah, I see where you have to go, Sir," she replied cheerfully, smiling at me. I tried my best to smile back, but the dizziness clouded my mind and prevented me from returning the gesture.

The clock ticked obnoxiously behind her, each second a deafening blow in my brain; I really hate headaches, and now is the worst possible time to have one. It wasn't too late, but after the actions of the past few days - waking up to find myself in hell, either literally or a place that seriously resembled it, being kidnapped, stuffed in a trunk, and running away - made my eyelids droop and a yawn escape my mouth.

I need a nap.

"Okay, I am running through our flight schedules right now, this will only take a few minutes," the employee informed me, granting me with yet another dazzling grin. I nodded at her, mumbling a quiet thank you, and praying she didn't think I was rude. "How have you been feeling, Mr. Malik? Has the flu gone yet? You do appear slightly pale," she inquired politely, shooting me a sympathetic look.

Mr. Malik?

What the hell?

I'm not Zayn Malik. I look nothing like him.

Since when did Zayn Malik have the flu?

I shook my head at her and frowned.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I think you've got the wrong guy - although I do feel like I'm coming down with something," I told her truthfully, and she frowned and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Oh," she said, staring at the wall behind me before snapping out of her daze. "Sorry to have bothered you, Sir, it will not happen again - "

I cut her off and chuckled at her worried expression, finally forcing myself to beam at her.

"Hey, no worries Miss. Do you have the schedule yet?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she answered, slightly flustered, as she hastily clicked the mouse to her computer. "We have three flights available to your desired destination. The first one leaves at nine twenty-five, but there are only three economy seats remaining. All business seats are booked already. The following machine departs at eleven forty-five - "

"The first flight is fine, ma'am," I interrupted, disinterested in the other options. I don't care if they shove me in the luggage section; I need to get out of here as soon as possible before Bullet finds me again. I need to get out of here now.

"Alright, Sir. The three seats still open are 20A, which is a window seat, 41C, an aisle seat, and 56E which is in the middle of the row. Which seat should I select for you, Sir?"

"I'll take the window seat, thank you," I said quickly, getting extremely eager to leave. "How much does that cost?"

"Sir, that will make 160 British Sterling Pounds and 40 cents. I will go and reserve the seat for you right now," she explained, watching the illuminated screen intently and clicking around several times. Several minutes passed when she finally smiled at me, showing off her pearly white teeth, and announced that everything was done. I handed her the money I stole from Bullet, thankful that I had grabbed enough to pay for the ticket.

"Thank you so much for everything," I thanked the woman, pressing a small wad of notes into her delicate hands. Her face brightened delightedly as she accepted the tip, waving goodbye when I made my way to the waiting section.

I dumped myself heavily on the cushioned seats of the designated area, feeling my eyelids finally shut and sleep take over my wary mind. I thought about my destination, and what things will be like when I arrive at the place that used to be my home. Will she be happy to see me? Will she even remember who I am? What if she hates who I have become? What about the others?

What will happen if Bullet finds me? To what extent does Yo-Yo's strength go? Will she have any mercy? Will Bullet?

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest.

I'm not Zayn Malik, and I don't have the flu.

I'm not Zayn Malik.

I was Zayn Malik. But then I died.

***********************************************************************

WOAH THERE. UKNOWN GUY WAS ZAYN BUT NOW HE'S NOT?? SAY WHAA-??! :D

Yuki xx