Louis' POV:
His words cut me like a knife, stabbing me straight through the heart, and suddenly I felt like I was bleeding out, my head was floating, I couldn't feel my feet, and I collapsed on my knees, my forehead against the door.
"Harry, please, just open the door." I beg, and I can hear him sniffling from the other side of the door.
"I can't." is all he says, and the despair in his voice makes me want to die.
"What do you mean? What's going on Harry? Please, just.... Please." Now tears are running down my cheeks, my knees are digging into the hardwood, and all I can hear is Harry's heaving breathing.
Two inches of wood. That's all that is separating us, yet I've never felt so separated from him. Even when he hated every part of me, I still felt closer than this. It's like there's a whole in my chest that a certain someone ripped out.
His father.
I get up abruptly, hearing a faint 'Louis?' as I run down the hallway, the cold air hitting my face, and I have to stop myself from running into King Jonathan, stopping just a few mere inches from him, before moving in front of him and stopping him in his tracks.
I stare at his smug face, his 'i don't know anything' grin, and it takes everything in me to not punch it right off, but since he's a king, I'm pretty sure that's a punishable offense. He waits for me to speak, but I wait a while, hoping he will break.
He doesn't.
"Why?" is all I ask as my voice comes out in a croak. "Why did you do it?"
"If you're talking about saving my son from a disaster, then I did it to protect him." he says, his eyes filled with something like power.
"Saving him? Everyone knows you've been completely ashamed of him for years since you found out, all back when these two families didn't go at each other's throats. He was upset for months because he had disappointed you. I used to feel sorry for you, sorry that you couldn't see how wonderful he is, how caring he is, how compassionate he is, but no. Not anymore. Now? Now I feel no remorse, because I know it's no use, you're too far gone."
I'm yelling at this point, my lungs running out of air, but I feel like I'm flying. I've wanted to say these things for years, but out of respect for both parties, I held my tongue. I'm not doing that anymore.
"May I remind you who you are talkin-"
"No. I'm done waiting for the other shoe to drop. This here? The other shoe. You have no idea what you gave up when you decided to stop being proud of your son, just because he doesn't want a Queen to sit next to him on the throne, but a King. He's an incredible human, and to think that in hindsight I gave that up? The worst mistake I've ever made. I guess we both messed up on that one, but at least I never stopped being proud of him."
I should stop. I shouldn't be doing this but at the same time, it's long overdue. I'm done letting him treat his own son as an employee, someone he only appreciates if it's for his benefit. As for Harry's father, he's completely silent. His face is incredibly red, and after another beat he turns around and walks away, cursing under his breath.
My first thought is that I should run to Harry, just to make sure that he's okay, and try to fix any damage his father may have caused. But seeing as I probably shouldn't run straight to him, I walk. Slowly. But I don't get far before I'm met face to face with him in the hallway, and the look on his face tells me everything I need to know.
He heard every word.
Before my mind can go into loops of how he might have interpreted everything, he speaks up.
