Bruise of Love | L.S ✔

Who Knew

And even if Louis had said yes and never been through the tears, the crazy nights, the stolen kisses, the unfaithful glances, his soul would still yearn for the enigma.

The enigmatic wild boy who took away all his scars to replace them with artful bites of his love.

He'd always yearn for him. For Harry Styles.

For the Bambi limbed, doe eyed, red lipped paradox that makes his entire world collapse.

● ● ●

Liam Payne is on leave when we get to the station. I am tempted to call Niall and enquire if any flowers were sent or left at my door.

It wouldn't be the first time.

There are no flowers on my doorstep this time. Dev makes no comment at my mutter of dickwad.

Harry Styles is wearing a path in my carpet. He's aggressively dragging his feet from one end to the other.

Niall has the telly on and Zayn is asleep on his shoulder. They're adorable.

He grabs me by my shoulders and silently inspects. I take the opportunity to tuck the daffodil in his ear.

He has his arms wound around me. Dev shakes his head and makes an excuse about studying some laws or something, he didn't want to intrude our moment.

I don't pay attention, not when Harry's warm and solid against me. Anchoring my sinking soul.

"What does the daffodil mean?" he rubs our noses together, toying with the small bow in my hair.

"Narcissism," I softly reply.

He kisses my forehead and the press of his lips is tender and caring.

I see red as love with him.

.

Liam Payne turns up at my door at nine pm. It's dark, Niall and Zayn left me in the company of Dev Patel and Harry Styles.

He's dressed in a sandy trench coat and has a groomed beard. His eyes are dim as he asks to come in.

I let him in and busy myself in the kitchen, ignoring his questions of why Harry Styles and Dev Patel were on my sofa.

"Surprised to see the lawyer you contacted and the man you're falsely dragging to a court?" Harry Styles retorts, saccharine sweet tone.

I giggle into my sleeve and bring in the warm tea. Harry stretches his hand out for the tea with a smug grin.

I hand it to Dev.

He needed to be put in his place at times.

"Traitor," he grumbles, stealing my cup.

I bring in Liam and my own cuppas.

No one tries to break the heavy silence. Liam Payne hasn't removed his coat yet. He gently sets a bouquet of black flowers.

"Black lilies, symbolising rebirth and rejuvenation," he explains.

It's almost like it's a peace offering.

It doesn't justify his corrupt behaviour.

"Why?" I curl against Harry's solid side, trying to not lose myself in the mess.

My anchor.

Liam shrinks into the armchair. His huge frame now vulnerable and small.

He fumbles with his words. "I felt like —it was just, I don't know."

"Explain the flowers, Liam," I implore his wavering expressions.

"White heathers meant protection, protecting people is my duty. So those were the first, protection."

He sweats, scratching the back of his neck.

"The roses, yellow ones—"

"Stealing my joy. Sending away Harry." I interrupt.

Liam nods, regretful. "Red Dahlias, they were to show that I was dishonest and I betrayed your trust. I never told you the truth, I always lied."

"Purple hydrangeas were your way of apologising, yes?" Harry wraps his arm around me, protective.

"Yes, I was ashamed of myself. I couldn't bear to face you anymore. Not when I heard what you went through," Liam confesses, tears gathering in his eyes.

"He used to call me Princess. He called me Princess everytime he violated me. Violated my body so vilely. I failed to reminisce the sweetness, the tenderness of the word. And when the only person whom I let in despite every other incident was gone, I couldn't cope up anymore. If Ansel broke me then you crushed me, Officer Payne." I hiccup, face blotchy and neck flushed.

Harry Styles lets me find comfort in his faded scent of roses. He holds me tight as if he's trying to mould me back into a better person.

In his embrace, I find a better me.

.

Ansel calls me, late in the night. I gently untangle myself from Harry and answer it.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, Louis. I am never going to undo what I've done, I am not worthy of your mercy or kindness. I wish you and Harry Styles have a good life. I'm sorry I never gave you what I promised." He sounds like he's weeping. The sniffling only gets louder.

"I don't know, Ansel. You give me anxiety, I get anxious whenever I see a taxi. I remember that night, when you thought it was okay for you to touch me in the back of a taxi and act like I wanted it. You made me feel cheap, you behaved like I was a fucking slag!" I almost shout, forgetting the sleeping boy in my bed six feet away.

He doesn't answer, simply cries some more.

I deliver my last words,"I look at the bruises on my skin and I wonder why I let you win."

He hangs up.

I crawl back into the bed, forcing the lump down my throat the tears to dry. Harry's even breathing and little snores reach my ear.

I let myself forget the past for a minute of comfort in the present.

• • •

I look at the bruises on my skin and I wonder why I let you win.

that's not mine. it is from a strong person whom I consider a best friend.

I wish I could take away all that you've gone through love. I wish they didn't leave you but I'm selfish enough to be happy that I'm your best friend.

I'm sorry I wasn't there when you went through it but I promise I'll be there in the future. to the best of my ability.

I love you so much my menace.