Sodalite and Aventurine (Larry Stylinson au)

CHAPTER VI

Chapter Text

STONE

Trouble would come for them when they woke.

Because when Louis finally, properly, opened his eyes, it was to a banging. From a shuddering.

From fists against his door.

There was shouting outside, loud and panicked. And somewhere, swimming below everything else, was the jangle of keys.

Louis bolted up and shot out an arm to wake up Harry. "Harry!" he begged, shaking his arm.

Harry began to wake slowly blink apart his eyes, too sluggish from their late night. They'd fallen asleep easily, into a deep slumber. Harry's arms had been around Louis, it had felt warm. And safe.

And now it was not.

Louis could not waste time shaking Harry awake. He needed to stop whoever was on the other side of that door. It would be Liam. He was the only other man on board with keys to Louis' room.

"Fuck!" Louis swore, throwing himself out of bed. He landed on the floor with a thud, arms flying out to his trousers before he had time to steady himself. "Wait!" he called, yanking them on.

They did not.

The door opened and Louis only had his trousers to his knees. His ankle had caught in one of the legs, pulled inside out when he'd stripped them off the night before. It had, stupidly, forced him to take too long. And now Liam was very concernedly looking down at him.

"Just wait-" Louis started, trying to pull up his trousers.

Liam, still, did not.

And neither did Ernest. He was a shadow behind Liam. His head poked out and caught on Louis, trousers down, and Louis could have swore again. Instead, he yanked his trousers to his waist with enough force to rip them. Because Liam turned to the shape in Louis' bed.

To the body.

To Harry.

Liam's face flashed from confusion to shock to recognition.

Louis spun to Harry and saw him on the floor on the far side of the bed. He'd pulled the sheets down with him, and effort to hide his nudity. They'd gotten too lenient, too comfortable to remain naked as their love making turned to sleep. "Shit," Louis uttered as he realised why Liam had that look on his face. The look of recognition that he did not have when he'd first found Harry, a mere stowaway, a complete stranger, in the depths of the ship.

Harry, in his nudity, had his tattoos on full display.

There was no hiding who he was. There was no explaining either.

Louis bolted for his knifes. They were thrown on the floor. They were right between Louis and Liam.

Louis' hand was mere centimetres before Liam's hands were suddenly on him. Throwing him back. Towards the bed.

Louis' back hit the wood of the bed's base with a crack. Pain shot up his spine.

"Louis!" Liam cried, his voice strained with betrayal. "What have you done?"