King Tomlinson {L.S.}

11. Innocence

And thus, the lamb was no longer innocent.

B U B B L E S  surrounded Harry in his bath. It was calming, seemingly relaxing. A week had passed since the news of his mother and father had reached him, and Harry seemed to be doing better. At least, he looked better. His face was no longer gaunt and the dark circles beneath his tired eyes were no longer visible. However, it had still been a while since he had smiled brightly, the smile Louis loved to see. 

Feeling his neck beginning to ache from its spot against the edge of the tub where Harry had been resting against, the younger lad slowly sat up. He rubbed the back of his neck gently before rising to his feet. He stepped out of the tube and dried himself off with the white towel that was draped on the towel rack. He sighed softly as he pulled on a pair of lounge pants and one of Louis's sleep shirts. Getting dressed in typical clothing had become hard for Harry lately, as he saw bits and pieces of his parents in all of his clothing - his mother's eyes matched a suit he had once loved to wear, and several pairs of his grey slacks reminded him of his father's salt and pepper hair.

He rubbed his hair with the towel and placed it on top of the bathroom counter. He looked up to the mirror and stared at his reflection for a long moment. A dark love bite was on his neck, and Harry felt himself shudder involuntarily as he stared at it. Things had been weird, lately. The number of fearful nightmares Harry had woken up from had him feeling terrified of the king alpha. At first, he envisioned Louis as his savior, a knight in shining armor, rescuing him from the tower in which he was abused at the hands and words of his parents. 

Now, however, he couldn't help but feel as if Louis was hiding things. The alpha constantly called Harry to their shared bedroom and did his best to occupy the omega with the task of planning their wedding. Normally, Harry would love to get caught up in planning and decorating, but he noticed Louis's behavior beginning to change.

The alpha spent less time with his omega, and more time locked away either in his study or his war room. Harry had tried to listen through the doors previously but caught nothing more than a few whispers. Unfortunately, the words were nothing he could ever make out. Not to mention the staff seemed to be on edge as well. Most avoided both eye contact and physical contact with the betrothed omega, and Harry couldn't help but feel the slightest bit lonely. It was almost as if they were afraid of him as if he truly was the monster he had witnessed in his nightmares.

With a soft sigh, Harry blinked at his own reflection. "You're okay," he murmured to himself. The omega was just about to turn away when he noticed it. For the briefest of moments, Harry could have sworn he noticed someone behind him. He continued to stare at the spot in the mirror where he saw it move. Slowly, he turned his head and looked into the room. Nothing was there.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, Harry shook his head. "Just your mind. Stop thinking about your nightmares," the omega told himself before turning back to his reflection. He looked up again and gasped at the sight of Jay, the maid that didn't exist, standing just behind him in the mirror. "No. No no no no," Harry gasped, turning his back to the mirror and staring at the woman, her neck bent at an unnatural angle. "Please," he whispered, a hand placed over his heart. "Please, you aren't real," he said, voice shaking with fear as he began to move towards the door, not taking his eyes off her.

"You killed me, My Queen. How could I not be real? Don't you remember? Your hands, wrapped around my throat, sliding up my neck to my head before you snapped it?" She said with a sickening smile. 

Harry shook his head, reaching out behind him to open the door. As soon as he felt the knob click in his hand, he turned and booked it out the door. Sprinting down the hall, Harry made his way to Louis's study. He found the door open with no one inside. "Shit," Harry squeaked. He turned on his heel and bit his lip in contemplation. "It's not real. You're okay, Harry," he whispered to himself.