Colourless

Chapter Three

The muffled pounding in my ears distorted my thought process and allowed me to only focus on the possessions I was stuffing inside of my duffle bag — now significantly lighter than what it had been when I arrived that same day.

"You ready?" Malik asked absently, stood watching through the peephole on the hotel room door. I hummed, muttering for him to give me a second.

Hiking my bag onto my shoulder, I quickly flipped open The Great Gatsby and began hurriedly writing a message to Aria on the inside of the cover — a place where hopefully only she would find. I wrote that I was okay, that I couldn't say much more, and that wherever I was going, I'd tell her when I was safe. Finishing with a somber 'I love you', addressed to all of my family, I closed the book and slid it underneath her pillow. "Ready," I inform, scooping up the scarf Aria had discarded on the ground to disguise my face.

Malik opens his mouth, attempting to tell me something, when three sharp knocks pound against the door; shaking the thin wood on it's golden-coloured hinges.

"Ms Damocles, if you're in there, please step outside," a gruff voice commanded, "This is your first, and last, warning."

Sliding behind Malik's slightly taller body for protection, I peer over his shoulder towards the door. "What now?" I whisper as quietly as possible, gripping the back of his black hoodie. The brunet brushes past me, searching the room before his eyes land upon the room's largest window.

"Oh, absolutely not," I hiss, "Not again."

"Ms Damocles, open the door right now, or we will be forced to open it ourselves."

Whirling around, I gesture for Malik to hurry. "Okay, out the window. Right now."

Prying out of the window, I lean out after Malik — assessing the distance between us and the ground. "You got a grappling hook?" I enquire, "Because there is no other way I'm going out there; not after last time." I shiver at the vivid, recent memory.

"Just jump," Malik grunted, "Look at all of those massive hedges, aren't they inviting to you?" I scoff, before hissing out profanities as Malik lifted me onto the open windowsill and motioned for me to move.

Straddling the windowsill, I take a deep breath and swing my other leg out. "You have three seconds," the voice commands abruptly, almost causing me to tumble out of the window.

"Wait," Malik orders, holding the back of my coat, "Don't move."

"Oh, will you just make up your mind!" The man's counting begins and I hold onto windowsill with an ironclad grip when the door bursts open, causing me to screech in fright.

The balded officer stood at least two feet taller than Malik, and his entire body seemed to throb with large muscles. I wasn't surprised the arguably leaner, shorter Malik hadn't cowered yet and shoved me out of the window — hurriedly launching himself after me.

"Ms Damocles, you're under arrest for denying participation in the mandatory blood ceremony." The officer tilted his head from side-to-side, cracking his neck in anticipation.

Suddenly, Malik launched himself into a fight and my eyes followed his swift movements. They were calculated and filled with lithe, like he had done this many times before, and his jabs at the lumbering man were almost graceful.

However, poise ultimately meant nothing against the man who was far superior in strength and I watched in horror as the officer practically launch Malik across the room — the brunet landing on one of the beds with a grunt. "At least take me to dinner first," Malik winked tauntingly, before throwing me a glance, "Pearl, get my bag."

Happily leaping back inside, I search for the satchel I had seen Malik carrying earlier — drowning out the sounds of Malik 'distracting' the officer. I breathe a sigh of relief as I hurriedly find it and tear open the top. "Is this real?" I gawk, carefully holding the gun that looked similar to the one my grandmother had once taught me to use.

"Holy f— woman, just pass it to me!" Malik growls, spurring me to jump into action and slide the gun along the floor — perfectly landing by his feet. Both men dive for the weapon, but Malik snags it first; flicking off the safety catch and pointing the barrel directly at the frozen officer. "Pearl?" I hum. "Please, get your ass out of the goddamn window."

Scampering over to the window, I inhale sharply and swing my legs over the edge once more; clutching my bag to my chest as Malik follows close behind me.

With a silent plead for good luck, I launch myself out of the window and try not to scream as I fall aimlessly towards the oncoming bushes. Finally, I feel rough leaves and twigs pull me painfully into their embrace, and I take that as the moment to tumble out of the hedge and find my feet. Clutching my now aching bones, I move just in time to watch Malik make an arguably graceful descent.

Rolling out of the bush, he dusts himself off and looks back up to the window we had fallen out of just seconds ago. "He's probably calling for backup," Malik grunts as he fixes my coat and plucks a leaf from my near-black hair. "We need to keep moving."

"Where will we go?" I scramble, stumbling painfully after him, "What's next for me? Are you clear-blooded as well?"

Malik shakes his head. "There are other people like you, though. An underground institute that teaches you to defend yourself... how to go on with your life."

"Defend myself?" I remark, arching a plucked brow as Malik throws me a smirk over his shoulder.

"Welcome to the hunted squad, cupcake."

***

I drape Aria's red, chiffon scarf over my head, before pulling it across my mouth to hide half of my face. It wasn't the best disguise, but enough to slip past the patrolling police men and women without being too obvious.

It was startling, how abruptly things had gone south for me in the worst possible way. My thoughts jumped between happiness that things could have gone worse, before ultimately realizing that being a 'colourless' was probably a lot worse.

I remained tucked into Malik's side, holding my bag close as he leads us along an almost desolate platform just in time for another maglev train to pull in — the passing driver a mere life-like hologram for what I could only assume to be reassurance.

The doors open, a now familiar feeling, and Malik nudges me inside. It felt like if we could only just get inside, we would be safe then. The carriages were significantly emptier than they had been this morning, and it made me rather jealous of the people who were able to return to their beds.

Feeling Malik drape his arm across my shoulders, I offered a small smile and shuffled closer into his side — relishing in the warmth he radiated.

Mere hours ago he was a handsome man on a train, and now he had decidedly saved my life — already on more than one occasion.

But, before I could thank him, I noticed a police man coming closer; his narrowed eyes skimming over the train carriages, with a torch in hand.

"Quick; hug me and look passionate about it," I hiss, pulling Malik even closer.

Malik raises an eyebrow,and  but obliges looms closer to me — his breath fanning across my face. "So... not that I'm objecting, but what exactly are we doing, cupcake?"

"Police officer, behind you."

"Oh right, in that case..." He sweeps the hair from my shoulders and puts his hand on the small of my back. Not to high, not to low. Classy. "And besides, aren't you my 'girlfriend' now, cupcake? If we're gonna fake being a couple, it's gotta be more convincing then simply breathing the same air."

I narrow my eyes, "Mhm, just— don't... forget it, just breathe quietly."

'Breathe quietly', I exclaim internally, 'Really?' Feeling myself come to my senses as I spy the police officer over my shoulder, I clear my throat and relax into Malik's embrace. "This is going to be a long ride."

___

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