The Monster & The Human

Eight

Louis was trying his hardest to distract himself from his mental argument due to what happened last night.

You shouldn't have done it. One side said, Good job, Lou! Said the other.

He was aggressively cleaning the dishes, scrubbing at the pearly white bowls with the sponge. He has been cleaning dishes for over an hour. His fingers were pruny and he had a slight headache from the constant smell of cleaning product but he couldn't stop.

Harry was in the shower and he never knew when he would come out or how he would treat him. He felt immature for thinking about it.

Are we like a thing now or will he act like it didn't happen? Will we kiss again? When? Is he even interested in me?

"Shit!" He cried out as he looked down into the sink to see that he grabbed onto one of the cutting knives by the blade due to him not looking at what he was doing.

He winced as he ran his hand under the cold water, his bottom lip being gnawed at from the sharp pain.

"Louis?" His deep voice rang, sending nervousness down his spine. He shut off the water and awkwardly held his dripping hand in the sink as he turned to see the curly haired boy pad into the kitchen with a white towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. His hair was brushed back to rest past his shoulders while his upper body and legs were on full view.

He was still wet from the shower. Louis was surprised that he didn't hear the water turn off but he was distracted by the numerous amounts of long stitches and scars in the shapes of circles that littered his skin. There was a long 'X' shape from his upper chest to lower that reminded him of those dead bodies on cop shows he used to watch with his mother and two that looked equal on his sides near his belly button.

He also noticed two little dots that were near his nipples, making him wonder if they were a birthmark or something different. He shook his head at the weird thought and went back to just looking into his eyes.

"What happened?" He asked, walking closer to him as he saw the crimson pour from his hand. He was close to Louis as he examined the wound. Too close. His moist chest was flush against Louis' shoulder and his hand going to check how deep the cut was.

"I cut my hand." He stated sternly, "Nothing serious." He shrugged, playing cool even through his hand felt like it was on fire.

"Well, you need stitches." He noted, his gaze going from his hand to his lips that were trembling in anxiousness. "I'll be right back." He purred, backing away to go get his sewing kit.

Louis let out the breath he was holding and ran his unharmed hand through his hair. He really needed a cigarette. Maybe he can go down to the village and look for a pack down at the store that no one except him seems to be going to.

It was weird to him how Harry -or anyone on this side of the mountain- didn't eat. Was it a monster thing? Like maybe his stomach was removed during the surgery that brought him back to life. But don't you need your stomach? And the sleeping thing. Why doesn't he sleep? Does he just sit there all night?