Unstable (Sequel to Twisted)

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Perrie was the one to act first.

She grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a couch pillow that was roughly the length of her arm-and the fluffiest one I might add-and she got off the couch, holding it like it was some kind of sword. When Louis saw Perrie move, his eyes immediately went to watch her closely, his entire body not even moving, though it looked like he was trying to figure out what she was doing.

But when he saw her wielding a pillow, he started chuckling under his breath, shaking his head and muttering, "Pathetic-absolutely pathetic."

"Get out," Perrie said, her voice shaking but loud and above all threatening, "of our apartment, you bastard."

"Perrie," Fran whispered, her face twisted in deep concern. I lowered my gaze, my emotions from earlier slipping away in just a few seconds. Right now I felt focused-adrenaline pumping through my veins, clearing my mind and letting me think on instinct. I searched Louis for any kind of lethal weapons, but I found none. It looked like it was just him, and his clothes were actually a bit wrinkly, almost like he had worn them for a few days or so.

But the first thing I wondered was where in the world his leather jacket was.

Louis was part of One Direction, the most notorious gang in London. The high members of the gang were known to wear signature leather jackets, so it was a huge surprise to see him not wearing one.

"Do you honestly think a pillow is going to-FUCK!" Louis cursed loudly when Perrie brought back and swung the pillow hard, hitting him right across the face. He actually had no time to retaliate before she did it again, whipping his cheek back the other way. I was frozen in pure shock; I, too, thought a pillow was going to be useless. But it looked like Perrie knew the elements of surprise pretty well.

I began to get a grip on the situation more and more as Perrie quite literally pounded Louis with the pillow. It got to the point when he was back against the wall, his hands up, trying to shield his face from the onslaughts of hits Perrie was sending his way. And through all this, Perrie was calling Louis every single insult known to man.

Louis was alive.

He was...alive. He wasn't dead.

So did this mean....?

"Wait!" I shouted suddenly, springing from the couch to head towards Louis and Perrie. Just as I was approaching them, Louis was able to snag the pillow from Perrie. Huffing, he threw it to the floor, his blue eyes furious.

"You bitch," He spat angrily, his hands bared into curled fists, hanging tensely at his side as he towered over Perrie. She immediately went back for the pillow, but I quickly stepped in between them, looking up at Louis.

His face was discolored in multiple bruises; the biggest one was on his chin, and there was a scar running along his eyebrow, but it wasn't noticeable unless you were standing right in front of him like I was.

His blue eyes were stormy with fury and irritation from being attacked by a pillow. I licked at my lips nervously, the question I so desperately wanted to ask bubbling in my stomach.

"How are you alive?" I asked, barely above a whisper, my lips barely moving. A part of my bangs hung over my eye, but I easily ignored it.

"He shouldn't be alive." Perrie snapped from behind me, trying to get past me with the pillow again.

"Hold on," I told her, holding my arm out to keep her at bay. Louis's jaw was clenched as he looked over me, seeing my unharmed face, silently comparing it to his.