Don't Let Me Go || l.s.

Chapter 16 - Unfaithful

A/N: I apologize for the wait! I've started back in school so . . . yeah. Dedicated to Maria (WickedStylinson) because well she's amazing and I love her stories. I've finished off one of her completed stories and am now following along two others! Check her stories out. :) Love all my little lovelies who give me continuous support. Mwah. 

**

“So, you’re a faggot, huh?” 

“P-please, father. Is it so wrong to . . . l-like boys?” 13 year old Harry whimpered, pulling his knees up to his chest and watching in fear as his father shut and locked the door behind him. 

“It is whenever you’re a boy yourself! What in the hell were you thinking?” Des fumed, walking over to the end of Harry’s bed and starting to unbuckle his belt. 

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked up into the mossy green eyes that are his father’s, shaking his head while pressing himself back against the wall. “What are you doing? Please . . . what are you doing?” He breathed out, blinking away the tears that formed in his eyes. They slipped out and the warm liquid slid down his pale cheeks. 

“You think you’re so great, yeah? Being a fag is absolutely disgusting.” Des spat out while sliding his belt from the loops in his jeans. “And you’re a fag, so you’re going to have to learn a lesson.”

Teenage Harry was mortified, watching as his father crawled onto the bed and pushed him onto his stomach with a rough force. He clenched his eyes shut, hoping it was all a dream as Harry felt his father yanking down his Cookie Monster pajama pants from behind. “Da-dad, no, don’t. Please . . . stop it, please.” Harry cried into his pillow when his plain white boxers were slipped down his legs. 

“You’re a cock-sucker, Harold, you should enjoy this.”

**

Harry jerked up in his hotel bed, feeling beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he tried to calm his erratic breathing. He looked around the hotel room, seeing his mother on the other queen bed, sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of her only son’s nightmare. 

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, causing the sweat to cling on his hand, so he wiped it on the creme colored sheets. Sliding out of bed, Harry placed his bare feet on the floor, sighing as he felt the rough carpet beneath him. After making his way into the bathroom and shutting the door, Harry looked at himself in the mirror, raking his fingers through his unruly mess of curls. 

Who could he talk to at 11 at night?

His mother? No. His sister? She’s at home, asleep. Zayn? Never. Louis . . .

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring. 

It went straight to the voice mail that Louis never set up.

Harry threw his phone on the bed before making his way back into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He had forgotten about the time different, and back where Louis is, it’s only 7 am. He’d still be sleeping. 

So, Harry did what any abnormal, stressed out teenager would do.

He snuck out of the hotel room, key card in one jean pocket and his cellphone in the other, heading downtown to a club called ‘The Viper Room’.

~ * ~

Music blared throughout the club, sweaty bodies closing in on one another’s as Harry made his way through the dancing crowd, trying to ignore the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke that lingered all around him.