The Sculpture and The Sculptured (l.s)

twelve

There's a soft knock on Harry's shed that barely manages to wake the artist up. It's dusk so everyone should still be asleep. Being the fact that Mr. Tomlinson is now home, Harry knows Louis wouldn't be knocking at this hour. He stretches a little before getting up to open the door. There, in his uniform, stood Louis' personal butler.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Harry rubs his eye, but the butler says nothing. Instead, he holds out a sealed envelope and Harry stares at it for a moment before taking it. "What's this?"

"It's from the Young Master." He mumbles, bows, and turns to walk away. Harry stands at the entrance with his mouth slightly open in confusion. He opens the flap, and removes the small piece of paper. In classic Louis style, the penmanship is sloppy and obviously rushed. It's print rather than cursive, showing his lover's urgency, and Harry skims the lines quickly.

Mr. Styles,

I've greatly appreciated your efforts, hard work, and cannot wait to see the final result of your project. I hope I've been a great muse. I wish to treat you to a meal in the city this weekend. I've asked father already, and he has agreed that this should also bring some inspiration to you seeing that you have been kept in the shed for quite some time.

I look forward to you keeping me company.

-Mr. Louis

Harry blushes at the letter, knowing the meal isn't all that will be taking place.

"Mr. Styles," Harry looks away from his luggage and smiles softly at Elizabeth, "I came to wish you a safe trip. Port City is beautiful, but busy. Please be careful when picking up your materials, and make sure to rest while you're away—"

"Thank you, Ms. Elizabeth." Harry bows slightly, and the young girl blushes before holding out a basket.

"Food for your trip. Please share it with Young Master." Harry accepts it, and feels a steel grip on his shoulder. He peaks over, and sees Louis watching them with a tight lipped smile. The fire of jealousy is clear in his eyes, and the annoyance in his expression almost makes Harry chuckle.

"We should be on our way. It's a long trip." Louis pats Harry's shoulder. "Come on." He gets in the carriage, and Harry follows after bowing to Elizabeth and thanking her for her kindness.

As soon as they leave the property, Louis fixes his eyes on Harry and folds his arms like a child being denied his favorite candy. Harry raises his eyebrows, and opens the basket so the smell of fresh bread fills the space. "It smells delicious."

"Don't tease me after not seeing me for so long." Louis looks him up and down, frustrated eyes turning dark with slight lust. He unfolds his arms, placing his hands between his thighs, and nudges Harry's foot with his own. "I don't appreciate it."

"What business do you have in Port City, Mr. Louis?" Harry nudges his foot back, but drags his half way up Louis' shin before lowering it again. Louis licks his lips, and swallows hard.

"I'm meeting father's match." Louis answers honestly, and Harry stops his teasing. He goes to remove his foot, but Louis moves his feet to trap Harry's and pull it towards him. Harry looks up from their feet to see Louis already watching him. "Her name is Alexandra Williams. She's sixteen, a virgin, and has a perfect reputation. Her family's wealthy, and apparently she's very beautiful."

Harry doesn't say anything, but thinks about how life would be once Louis marries. No doubt he'll have to produce a son— some daughters at least. Harry thinks about his lover possibly falling in love with another, a woman he told Louis to marry no less, and he feels anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

"Mr. Styles," Louis toes off his shoe and lifts his foot to press it against Harry's inner thigh, "I wish you would talk to me during the moments that make you frown."

Harry blinks, fixes his mouth, and clears his throat before looking out the window. "I'm a jealous man, Louis. I'm starting to realize that with every moment we spend together."

"If you tell me not to marry her, I won't." Harry grabs his foot, and massages it gently for a moment as he thinks. "Just tell me."

"No," Harry takes a deep breath and nods, "I'll be alright."

The butler checks them in at the hotel, carrying Louis' luggage as Harry carries his own. They have separate rooms, but Harry knows that the darkness of the night will protect him when he sneaks into his lover's room while everyone sleeps. The first night, both men are too tired to enjoy dinner together. They eat separately as the butler unpacks Louis' clothes, and Harry anxiously waits for the old man to retire to his own room so he can go see his muse and keep him company for the night.

The city is breezy, cooler than the inlands due to the air wafting off the sea. Large, wooden boats carry packages and cargo and can be seen being unloaded and reloaded from Harry's room. Dirty men greet their families, youth with troubled pasts and impoverished families help out for the little bit of pay they can grasp in their blistered hands. The streets are dirty as horse dung sits on the corner, children too young to work sit by it playing in the mud created by the recent rains, and homeless women and men beg for a penny or piece of eaten bread.

Harry looks at his own basket of bread, now slightly sour after the long trip, and decides that the mothers and children begging below his room should sleep on stomachs slightly more full than last night. He makes his way downstairs, just in time to see the front desk manager attempting to chase off the poor with shouting and a broom. The young children flinch in fear, but their mothers gather them and prepare to move.

"Excuse me!" Harry yells over the commotion, and the women stop. He reaches into the basket, and holds cut pieces of loaves out to them. "They're a bit stale, but good to eat. Have a blessed night, and stay warm."

"God bless you!"

"Thank you, Sir!"

"My boys won't starve tonight."

"I'm forever grateful!" They all give their thanks, children smiling at him, before taking their leave. When the basket is empty, Harry turns to the manager and glares at him.

"Poor or not, children are innocent." He mumbles.

"They'll be back tomorrow with more beggars because of you." The man snarls.

Harry closes the basket. "I hope you treat them better tomorrow, then. Do on to neighbors as you would want done on to you. Go to church some day, clearly the devil has gripped you through your wallet."

The man's jaw drops slightly, shocked but silent. Harry returns back to his room to find Louis watching the outside. The muse looks at him with a proud, bright smile and waves him over.

"Talented, smart, and humble." Louis giggles, and Harry closes the shutters before kissing him. "What a man that has been sent to me."