Stockholm (Larry AU)

Naamloos deel 11

The Stockholm flat was absolutely silent. Not a single sound could be heard. It was almost as if the place was empty, but ironically there were two boys still living there. One filled with love and regret and the other with hate and misery.

Louis was locked up in his room. It was a luxurious room, almost as good as the one he has or himself back home in London. He should be happy, but how can he, when he's a prisoner for someone else. He's a hostage for a boy he likes, a boy he truly hurt. And he's never had a worse pain than the one taking up his heart.

He just sat in his room, almost still, mentally absent. His blue eyes had become pale from all the tears he had finished crying, his skin full of bruises of where his captor had hurt him. His mind was blank, just like everything else. He felt completely empty.

Harry didn't feel any better either. Lying in his room, under the covers with his head leaning on the wall shared between his and Louis' room. The sobbing he had heard minutes ago had quieted down to nothingness, and to some extent he was glad. He couldn't bear to hear Louis, the boy he still felt something special for cry, no matter how much he tried to. He wanted nothing more than to go to his love and accept the apology he was offering but his mind always stopped him, saying that he was just going to get hurt again.

He was devastated and disappointed at the wreck he had made of Louis, treating him like an animal he did. At the time it seemed right, his mind filled with consequences of Louis' misplacement and figuring out any way to stop those consequences. But now, he wanted nothing more than to hold Louis in his arms, pepper kisses on all the bruises, and just hold him until they both fall asleep just as he's dreamt of before.

He wants to love Louis, not hurt him. But his mind won't let him go without paying for the game he played, and to some extent his heart wants that too.

It felt odd, not worrying or caring about Louis for him, it felt like he had no other purpose, and truthfully he didn't. He uncovered himself and sat up right against the wall again. He didn't want to worry or care, he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. He knocked on the wall, just once, making it seem like an accident. He hoped that's what Louis would've taken it as, when he heard a ruffling behind the wall. "Harry" A gentle voice sounded, unmistakably the other boy's, like he had been waiting for it.

When he received no response, he questioned again, "Harry? Did you need something?" He asked through the wall that separated them.

"No. It was accident okay? I don't need you" He responded quickly, too quickly to seem honest, while answering questions that hadn't even been asked. Louis could tell something was up, he knew that he wasn't forgiven. He would do anything to get Harry to accept his apology. But he could only do so much for him from inside the room.

"Harry, I'm really sorry. Believe me when I say I really am sorry" Louis uttered quietly, almost with his lips against the wall, as if it would make his voice louder and more convincing. He didn't hear a voice reply but still continued. "I'm sorry for playing you, and using you. I swear I really do care for you" He continued, feeling the tears well up in his eyes.

Louis would've continued, but he didn't hear anything back, not even a single breath, and it just made him think that maybe Harry wasn't even listening. The thought brought so much sorrow, that maybe Harry was completely gone out of his reach and he had no way to bring him back.

His ear was still pinned to the wall, and suddenly his face lit up, as soon as he heard what seemed to sound like footsteps. Maybe Harry was coming back and was ready to listen.

Louis was just about to start his apology again, when the door opened, without a knock. There stood Harry, tall and lanky, a tray of food, which seemed to be stale from this morning, in his hands. He wore a blank look, but that seemed to change into a scowl as soon as he saw the boy against the wall. He walked up to the crouching boy, and stood right at his feet, looking down at him.