larry stylinson oneshots

cherry wine

TW//Implied abuse/Mentions of bruises & blood

The ice in his eyes reminded Louis of a frosted pine forest. Sharp and bitter on the outside, delicate and comforting on the inside. He was too distracted by their beauty to notice the pressure on his arm, too enthralled by his pink lips to focus on the venom spewing out of them.

He didn't think much of the situation. The pink and red markings that danced across his skin reminded him that somebody wanted him.

"I love you."

Louis grinned as the room grew quiet and accepted cold lips onto his. The chill was a part of him, spreading through his body like a disease. His eyes followed his partner as he left the room. Feeling alone, he sank into his jumper and sighed as a car pulled out of the driveway.

The broken glass on the floor drew his attention away from the silence. Amongst the sparkling fragments was a faded photo of two boys. One of them was laughing, his eyes crinkled, head back. The other, with a head of curly hair, was looking towards the beaming boy.

"That's the worst joke I've ever heard, H!"

A small laugh escaped Louis' mouth as he relived the memory and threw the glass away. He missed those days. He missed the laughter that used to fill the house, warming every room. Sometimes he wanted to seek out those moments, run away and embrace everything new.

But he had it all; a house, food, his boyfriend. Louis could never leave because he was happy. His friends thought he deserved better, and he severed contact with them. They didn't see what Louis saw. He saw the passion in his eyes.

Louis remembered the one person that stood back quietly, his best friend. He missed him the most, the person who let him live his life and trusted him more than anything.

"Whenever you want."

He could visit him; he had permission. Louis rushed towards the front door and looked down the street. Snow was falling, coating the street in a blanket of white. Not fazed by the hazy blur, Louis shook his head. His friend wasn't far, and if he ran, he would make it.

-

"One second!"

Louis sniffled as he rocked on his feet. The snowfall hadn't lightened, and the wind was starting to pick up. But the cold felt familiar.

"Hi, sorry- Lou?"

Blue met green as Louis anchored a shy smile to his face. He was ushered into the home and relished in the warmth. The chill surrounding his body dissipated as the boy took his damp coat. His green eyes were a stark contrast to the person he lived with. Full of compassion and tenderness, they reminded Louis of a whimsical meadow bursting with nature and the beauty that came out of it.

"I wasn't expecting you! Make yourself at home!"

Home. Louis would always feel at home with Harry. His best friend. Someone that he thought deserved better. Harry was the most selfless person he had ever known.

"Are you alright? Can I hug you?"

Consent. Feeling welcomed, Louis nodded and let Harry wrap his arms around him. His arm tensed as Harry's brushed against it, but relaxed when his face pressed into the taller boy's chest. Harry felt warm. The sensation raced through Louis' body, spreading love into his blood.

And then he was cold. His phone was ringing in his pocket, and he stumbled away from Harry to answer it.

"I don't see you, love."

"H?"

The line went silent, and Louis looked up to find Harry staring at him, his eyes full of wonder. He shook his head and whispered, "Boyfriend." Harry nodded and wandered towards the living room, gesturing Louis to follow.

"I think I might just head back to my house."

"Oh, are you sure?"

Louis shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry to bother you."

"No! You're never a bother! I'll see you another time then?"

Fully aware that it would be months before that would happen, Louis nodded and stepped towards the door. His ears picked up the sound of footsteps behind him, and he turned to see Harry with a soft smile on his face, dimples ever so prominent.

"Bye, Lou. Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'm always here."

Louis responded with a slight tilt of his head and opened the door. The bitterness of the outdoors greeted him, sending snow into his face. It still felt familiar, but he didn't seem to make the connection as he entered his house.

He didn't notice the way the chill stayed with him as he gazed into the mirror, brushing his fingers over his bruises. It stayed with him until he was no longer alone in the bedroom. His blood was warm. Not the same warmth that Harry's home provided, but it was warm. Warm and sweet like cherry wine. That's what his boyfriend smelled like, and that's what drew the blood from Louis' skin.

Cherry wine.