paint · ziam au

xvi

MARATHON 1/3

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(words: 1.883)

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*not edited, oops*

Liam drove down the almost empty streets, quickly, almost enough to get him a speeding ticket. But it was nine-fifty five p.m and adrenaline pumping through his veins because he was going to meet-up with a criminal that has sent threats to Zayn.

Maybe it was stupid, the fact that he had decided to hand the money in person. Who knows if he owned a gun and planned on shooting him right after Liam would hand him the pounds. He just imagined himself being gone while Zayn was now exposed to danger. It was a risk, but he was taking it.

In his front pocket he had a small pocketknife that he decided to bring along just in case this Harry guy decided to pull something funny. He didn't entirely trust him, even if he sounded 'friendly' for a mere two seconds. Threats were still threats and Liam can't say he is sure that Harry was just bluffing.

Zayn didn't know at all, well, at least that's what Liam hoped. Because if he found out, he was sure that Zayn wouldn't like it. But it was for his safety, he knew that if he didn't do it, Harry could probably go over and hurt Zayn when Liam wasn't aware of it. Now that was a risk he didn't want to take.

Right now, Zayn is curled up in Liam's bed. The fluffy blankets covering his skinny body, making sure that he wouldn't go cold. One side of his face 'smooshed' against the pillow, a slight pout on his lip as he breathed steadily through his nose. His eyelashes barely touching his cheeks as he slept peacefully. Liam had to admit that he had stared (but then again, he always does when it comes to Zayn). But once it had become too creepy, he grabbed an old wallet filled with one thousand pounds and left, making sure to add the double lock, just in case it was a trap just to get Liam out of the house so Harry can get a hold of Zayn.

He sighed when he finally made it to the street, which had a small house on one side of it. He frowned a bit and turned off the cars engine and slowly and carefully got out of his car. He shut the door behind him, looking around to see if anyone was in site. But no one appeared and there was a frown crawling onto his face.

He pulled his sleeve up and checked his watch; ten o'two. He hummed in suspicion and turned around, not seeing anyone else on the other side of the street.

That is until he hears footsteps behind him and he twirls around, his scarf flailing around his neck.

The person's steps were loud and noticeable, his figure was tall and lean, not muscular, but it was still intimidating. He wore a fashionable black trench coat that hung tightly around his figure, his hands were in his pockets and his hair seemed to almost touch his shoulders. "Liam Payne." He greets with a dark chuckle.

Liam scrunches his eyebrows. "How do you know my name?" He eyes him from head to toe, standing straight, puffing his chest out. He was about his same height, except Liam was a bit more bigger in the biceps and chest.

Harry scoffs, flipping his hair back. "You're on magazines and newspapers all the time. Don't act so surprised."

Sure, maybe Liam was named sexiest successful businessman in London a few times in a row, but he didn't let that get to him. He usually forgets about it most of the time. He ignores him and pulls out the wallet. "Here. One thousand pounds, exact." He tosses it to Harry, who catches it.

He opens it and skims quickly through the money, counting each and every note. He then looks up at Liam, cocking an eyebrow as he puts the money back in the wallet.