Chapter One

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Thank you to all my beautiful readers! Wow, the feedback was overwhelming when I logged on yesterday! This is your reward chapter. :) It kinda sucks, so I apologize, but I have rehersals going on :/ If you haven't already, could you check out, "Three Little Words" on my profile? Also, this chapter is dedicated to Callmeniko because he made me. Haha, just kidding!

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Harry sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, tousling the unruly curls even more. He had left after the incident, trying to clear his head and piece together what had happened. He never meant to hurt Louis, that was never the case. Harry loved Louis, with all of his heart, and though he hurt him many times, it was never intentional.

Harry had a very short fuse, an awful temper, and many times Louis was the only target around when he needed release. Louis never seemed to mind that he was victimized when Harry went in to a fit of rage, because Harry always made it up to him later.

Of course, that didn't mean what he did was right, and it didn't mean what he did was even okay. Harry knew that, and he felt bad about it every time it occurred.

He came to a stop in front of the old brick building, the flashing neon lights blinding his eyes and the blarring music bashing around in his skull. Aside from Louis, this was his other stress reliever. The club.

He pushed open the big black door and breathed in the aroma of the grinding bodies and alcohol that engulfed his senses. He smiled lightly, it was good to be back.

Strutting to the bar, Harry noticed a very good looking bar tender serving other customers. He smiled once again, wider this time. It seemed like a good night.

"What can I get you?" The brewer asked as Harry approached, a huge beam plastered on his face.

"How 'bout a tall glass of...you?" Harry purred, crossing his arms on the bar top and leaning his torso against them.

The bar tender laughed his musical laugh. "Wow, forgive me, but I'm really not flattered. This kind of thing isn't unusual for me, but usually, most of the guys who try to pick me up are drunk. And considering I watched that delicious body of your's walk in, I know for a fact you are not. So, trust me when I say, I am not your type."

Harry hesitated for only a fraction of a second, his ego stunned and slightly wounded. But he quickly recovered, planting a cheeky grin on his face as he replies, "Oh yeah? And what exactly is my type?"

Wiping up a spill from the counter, the brewer answered knowingly. "You need someone loyal, someone who will take care of you when you come home drunk, puking your guts out. And probably someone who doesn't mind dealing with your huge ego and probably your anger issues, as well. I bet you make your boyfriend your personal punching bag, right? And I certainly could not put up with all that shit. I mean, does he even know where you are right now?"

Now, Harry really was hurt. There was no way that he could possibly know about Harry abusing Louis. No one knew, Harry made sure of that, because he made sure Louis' bruises were always covered. He always made sure that Louis knew how sorry he was, and how much he loved him, so he wouldn't tell anyone what had happened.

"H-how did you k-know that I have a b-b-boyfriend?" Harry stuttered, squinting his eyes in confusion.

"Because," The bar tender said. "You have a commitment ring on your left hand with the name 'Louis' engraved in to it."

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Louis hissed in pain as he lowered himself in to the bubble bath he had drawn, the soapy water stinging each cut as he sunk lower. It's been an hour, and Harry wasn't back yet. Not that Louis expected he would be, because usually he wouldn't come home until the next evening. But that never stopped Louis from hoping he would be back.

Seeing Harry like he was tonight was nothing new for Louis, and he reminded himself of this as he looked over his body, inspecting the wounds. Cuts, welts, bruises. Some from weeks ago, some from days ago, and most from tonight.

Louis sighed as he pulled a washcloth from the towel rack and dunked it under the water before pouring a generous amount of body wash on to it. He gritted his teeth and he cleaned his body, ridding himself of the dried blood. He had just finished rinsing his body and wrapping a towel around his waist when he heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Louis?" Harry's soft voice called out. "Are you in here, baby?"

He cringed momentarily before reluculantly pulling on a pair of boxers and walking out of the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet from his bath.

"Right here," He murmered as he entered he and Harry's bedroom. Harry turned at the sound of Louis' voice, gasping as he saw the damage he had done to Louis' body.

He rushed forward, pulling Louis in to a gentle but tight embrase, kissing his hair and murmuring appologies and sweet nothings in to his ear.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Harry cried out, tears rushing down his cheeks at the realization of what he had done. "I didn't mean it, I-I'm sorry."

Louis gave in, like the whipped boyfriend he was. He forgave Harry just like every other time, falling in to his arms like nothing had happened, like they were totally fine. "It's okay."

"No!" Harry gasped, pulling away to look Louis in his eyes. "This wasn't okay! It never is! I don't know why I do this to you!" He screamed, turning to the wall and punching it harshly.

"Harry," Louis said gently after he cringed again. "Can we please just...just go to bed?"

And of course, Louis knew that would work, because that was always what Harry wanted to hear.

"Yeah, Lou, of course," Harry smiled, turning to face him. "Let's go to sleep."

So Louis allowed himself to be taken to the bed, allowed himself to be layed back, allowed Harry to strip them both of their clothing and have his way with him. Because this was the time when Harry truly showed Louis that he loved him, in the only twisted way he knew.

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