Waifs and Strays [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter Forty-Nine

"Harry, it's you," he squeaks with big, horrified eyes. It doesn't seem like he expected to find me here.

Then again, I didn't expect him to find me, either. When I first woke up because of his foot driving against my calf and I saw his face, I thought I was still dreaming. I can feel my heart thudding inside my chest and my hands have begun to shake. I don't want him here. I was trying to escape from him!

"I was so worried, Hazza," he says, his voice sounding breathy.

When he starts crawling closer, a strangled sound escapes my mouth and I shuffle further back against the tree that had served as my bed in the past hours. "Get away from me," I hear my voice, but it sounds different. It sounds like I am about to start crying.

I'm about to get up and start running away when Louis predicts my plan and lunges forward. "No!" he yells desperately and before I can help it, he straddles my lap, placing his full weight on me and closes his hands around my wrists to hold me in place. Even though he is every strong, I know that I could simply hoist him off of my lap since he is so short. That's probably why his grip around my wrists is so damn tight.

"Get off me," I groan in frustration and try to shift away.

But Louis ignores me. "I'm so so sorry, Haz," he says in a high pitched tone, "you have no idea how sorry I am."

"Don't call me that," I snap at him, angrily furrowing my eyebrows almost so much that they hurt.

Louis' eyes widen in alarm. "Harry," he says instead. It doesn't make my name sound better from his lips. "I mean it," he assures me, "You have to believe me! I am so sorry for everything that I've done."

I raise my eyebrow at him. Why doesn't his choice of words surprise me? "Everything?" I scoff, "That's great." Of course he finds me and comes up with this lazy excuse without real meaning. And thanks to the wording of his so called apology, I can already see him telling me how sorry he is to have ever made me feel like he cared. "And what would 'everything' be, exactly," I challenge him.

"Everything!" Louis shouts in a panicked voice. I think he notices how unimpressed I am by his words. "I've hurt you so bad, I know it," he tells me and his features look almost sad in the darkness, "I was unfair and scared and cruel, and you deserve so much better. I never wanted to hurt you."

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Could he be any more pretentious? "'kay," I deadpan.

Louis gives my arms a shake to make me look at him. When I do, I notice that one of his eyes is darker than the other. It almost looks alien in the darkness. "Please come back to the camp with me," he pleads.

I burst out a loud, dark laugh that doesn't sound cheerful at all in the quiet of the night. "And why should I?" I chuckle sharply.

"Because I am asking you to," Louis whines. His voice keeps sounding like he is wounded. Can he stop that? It's annoying. "And because it's cold and you must be starving like I am. And because trying to find your way back home, on your own, while you're like 50 miles away from the city, is nuts."

"Yeah," I grunt, "I really must've been nuts to think I could escape you, huh?"

"Harry, I didn't mean it like that," he says quickly, realizing his mistake, "I'm worried about you. I just want you to be save."

"Worried?" I blurt in disbelieve, "Worried?! That's what this is, yeah? Well, sorry, I couldn't tell. I didn't get the decryption key for your fishy techniques of showing affection."

Louis' shoulders slump at my words. "Harry, please, you have to believe me. I'm asking you. I could be forcing you to come back with me, but I am asking," he tells me.