They call us Larry Stylinson (Larry One Shots - book 2)

Light Reflects From Your Shadow

From: http://archiveofourown.org/works/872655

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Rating: Mature

Warnings: smut, top!harry, bottom!louis, au, angel!louis, demon!harry

Word count: 2500

Summary: Out of all the binds between light and dark in the world, nothing works better than Louis and Harry.

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In the near distance, Louis can hear the gentle strum of an acoustic guitar being picked. He smiles at the familiar tune as he idly stands close to a light tent, glancing upwards at the blinking stars. He loves nights where all the angels just gather to be with each other. It’s always on warm nights, with a scattering of billowing tents and cosy campfires. He feels peaceful; exactly how angels should feel all the time. That’s not always the feeling when there’s commotion about heavy duties on earth as well as elsewhere but here, with everyone so in sync with one another, it’s easy to slip into a blissful phase.

A gust of soft, summer breeze strokes Louis’ feathered wings, cooling a small patch. That’s when he hears the calm chatter start to rise along with other noises that hold similarities to quaking glass and pieces of silver hitting the floor. Before Louis can turn to see what the chaos was about, a dark figure emerges out of crisp, smoky air and engulfs the space he’s breathing in. He doesn’t know if he should look up, if he can look up, but from down here, he sees muscles drenched in oils and sweat. The smell of musk ash is undeniably from the pits and he knows straight away that it’s a demon. If the overwhelming aroma of pure heat isn’t enough, the inky, black markings are more than indications. Louis gulps because he’s alone, separated from everyone by tents, and he doesn’t know how to handle himself against the dark forms.

“Hi, Louis.” a gruff voice speaks. This demon knows him, at least enough to know his name. So slowly, Louis tilts his head upwards and takes in a muss of ominous curls burying pointed horns and hooded eyes in the shade of forest green. His breathing stutters, a wave of memories hoarding over his thoughts. The last time he’s seen that face was in training school, way back when he was only thirteen. When he was in training to become an angel.

“What are you doing here, Harry?” Louis wants to sound strong, angry, even. The wounds are still fresh and he doesn’t feel like picking at the poor stitching but he needn’t worry as it looks like Harry might just do the picking for him.

“Visiting old friends, aren’t I?” Harry smirks. “Lot’s changed. The guys don’t seem to be as friendly as they were before. Bit weird for angels, innit?”

Harry pauses for a moment to glint his dangerous eyes down at Louis.

“But you, you’re still as cute as ever.” He finishes, with a flash of those dimples.

Louis is fuming. How dare Harry come into a place that he is most definitely not welcome but mostly, how dare he talk to him as if things are okay.

“Leave, Harry.” Louis whispers; quiet but firm. There’s no need to drag on an ugly encounter like this one.

Harry tosses his head downwards then sweeps the brown locks back up, never easing his smirk.

“But we just got here! The boys are doing their rounds right now; I’m thinking Zayn’s got some catching up to do.” He winks at Louis then brings himself into the side of the angel’s swept fringe. “Speaking of catch ups, we’re in need of one as well.” Harry lingers at the crook of Louis’ neck before he’s being pushed away by miniature palms of butter smooth skin.

“Get away from me. I’m leaving.” Louis knocks Harry’s body away before turning to escape but his thin arms are caught by a huge hand, crawling with bulging veins. The hand yanks his frame, causing a short whimper, and Louis is brought extremely close to Harry’s steaming face.