Burn [Larry Stylinson AU]

Chapter Eleven

Rain pattered to the ground, tinkling rhythmically onto the slab of sidewalk veined with cracks and weeds. Thunder rumbled overhead, ringing through the sky like a clash of cymbals. Socks squishy under the shoe's black canvas, Louis couldn't help but fleetingly wish he had worn his boots today.

            His soaked Converse splashed in the small pools of water collected in potholes as he crossed the street, waving at the driver of a Honda Civic that was friendly enough to stop for him. He walked briskly in the rain, one hand wrapped around a plastic grocery bag that held a small package of sugar, and the other clenched in a fist, shaking from the absolute need. A need, temptation, and craving only the crumpled £20 note in his fist could pinch.

            When Louis got to the other side of the street, he slipped behind a vacant flower shop with boarded windows and dying greenery swinging in their planters from the slanting rain. He glanced over his shoulder, wary of the feeling he was being watched. There wasn't anybody there except for a few black birds hiding underneath the buildings' rain gutters.

            Standing in the lot, a few yards from the shop's rear exit, a girl was slouched in the rain, dressed in dark skinny jeans and a gray hoodie with the hood popped up. The sopping clothes did little to hide the skeletal figure underneath.

            “Victoria?” The figure turned around in the rain, revealing a set of big blue eyes and pale blonde hair beneath the hoodie. Louis walked a couple paces forward until he was in front of the blonde girl, opening up his fist and smoothing out the note. “How much for 20?”

            Victoria frowned down at the money, “Is that you have all you have Louis? You can barely get a gram for that much.” She lifted a pale hand to push back the hair falling in her eyes and shoved it back into her pocket.

            “Just give me the gram then,” Louis shrugged. He added in urgency, knowing he had only another hour or so until Harry got home, “Look, I don't care how much I get. I just really need to make this fast.

            She studied him for a second before she slumped her shoulders and sighed, “Give me the twenty and a fiver, and I'll double your amount.

            “Pardon?”

            “If you slap in another five, I'll give you two grams,” she repeated,

      Louis shook his head in disbelief. Coke was never that cheap, unless the dealer was desperate. “Two grams for 25 quid? Victoria, wh-?”

            “Listen, I need the money. I've gotten barely any sales this month and I'm pretty damn hungry. I need to make this deal. 2 for 25, that's my offer,” she said, looking up at him sternly.

            Louis dug a little in his pockets and pulled out the grocery receipt along with 7 ones. “Here,” he said, handing her the money.

            She counted it and pocketed it before taking out a small clear bag of cocaine and placing it in his hand. Louis grabbed a hold of the bag and turned to leave before pausing mid-step. “Victoria, you shouldn't come down here anymore.”

            She rolled her eyes, “It's none of your fucking concern what I do, Louis.” Louis frowned at the bruise on her left cheek and the scar above her brow.  It upset him that everything about her was dull and worn; the youth and innocence that once rested behind her pale lashes had hardened by the rough hands that left bruises on her body, the cold jail cells she slept countless nights in, and the slam of the asphalt under her worn shoes. Fuck it if it wasn't his concern.