The Mafia Case {L.S}

Chapter 25

omg i am so sorry it's been so long 😳. a lot has happened since we last talked but the gist of it is i made a new cover for this kajsjd, also i relapsed about a month ago so i took a break, i'm still a bit of a mess but i'm talking to my therapist more, another fun fact is i almost broke my nose a few days ago 💀. anyway i hope you enjoy this long awaited chapter i tried to make it longer than usual so let me now !

also i did minimal editing on this feel free to point things out if you want too
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The first week Louis continues to avoid Harry like he is the plague. Harry spends the time laying alone bundled in the soft satin sheets of his bed, wallowing in his own self-pity. He only leaves the bed to go to the bathroom when he's spent too much time laying in his own emotions and body-odor or he absolutely has to go. or spending some time stretching and cleaning his wounds. He watches the way the sun rises and sets through the window, the light reflecting and flickering in his eyes like a movie playing on film. He spends his time carefully contemplating the way life seems to move on, no care in the world for his melancholic mood. He thought he and Louis were doing good. The two of them had gotten along well, maybe better than just well but that's a thought for a later time, and had finally reunited after so long. But all of a sudden, Louis morphed into a distant stranger again, like one of the people you just walk by on the street. He became the ghost he once was in his life again, the shell of a person who existed but didn't. He could hear his footsteps, see the shadow of him from under the door as he walked by, his footsteps often slowing as he passes, sometimes stopping for a few seconds, as if hesitant, but then swiftly moving on again. Harry misses seeing his smile, the way his eyes crinkled with true happiness and fondness. Missed hearing his laugh, or just his voice in general. He missed the way Louis coddled him and wrapped him up in his arms, protected him, and made him feel safe, even if Harry was the taller one. It seems cliche when you think of how deep Harry was only after a few months, but he couldn't help himself. Louis Tomlinson was a mystery, an anomaly, and Harry's curiosity was more than peaked.

Louis spends the week running back and forth between meetings and the basement. He needs to keep himself busy and distracted, needs to keep his thoughts from wandering too forest green eyes, brown chocolate locks, and a set of plush lips he can't seem to get the feeling of out of his mind. His emotions are unbalanced, tipping so close to the edge of ferocious intent that one wrong move will send him tumbling and flailing down. He snaps at nearly everyone if they step even one centimeter out of line, he needs everything to be perfect, needs everything to run smoothly so he can stay busy. No one except Liam and Zayn truly knows why he is acting like a deranged monster, more than usual. They all think it is because of the Nick situation, the stress and built-up rage getting to him, but in reality, he was lost. So, so lost. Lost without the silver light of his moon to grab him by the hand and to guide him. Harry brought light into the darkness of his heart and life. He bathed in the feeling of the light dancing and passing in the shadows of the night acting as a leash to hold him steady. The warmth that spreads through him as the light filtered through the cracks and holes in his walls he had built. Louis has spent a better part of the past week looking for Nick, who went into hiding, probably from the fear of the outcome of his life right now.

'Good' Louis had thought. 'He should be scared for what's going to happen when I find him.'

Louis would always leave lingering looks towards Harry's door when he passes, but he wouldn't allow his mind to wander about what Harry may be thinking or how he may be feeling. He wouldn't allow himself to think about that, lest he cracks more at the seams and barge into Harry's room to coddle him and give him all the love and affection in the world. He couldn't and wouldn't allow himself to go in and kiss Harry senseless, until they were both begging for air, to ravage him right then and there, watch the way his face changes at the sudden intensity and pleasure, enjoying every minute of the heat between them, the pleasure that excites the air around them. As much as he may want to do that, he couldn't allow himself to. He quickly shuffles past the door anytime he realises he has been standing, floating through the sea of his thoughts, for too long. He has business to take care of first before he could continue to let his mind torture him with his own fantasies.