Bound by Pages | larry

thirty-four

Harry wasn't sure if his father would've actually killed him. The scariest thing was that he was actually thinking about it. Harry could see it in his eyes. 

Before he got the chance to decide, both his arms were grabbed from behind him, and he was restrained. Harry didn't hear the sirens, he didn't hear the front door open. Harry didn't hear the policemen storm down the stairs because he was too focused on one face in the room. Louis.

He was so focused on how beautiful he looked. Obviously, he was scared half to death and had tearstains running down his face, but that didn't change the fact that his features were absolutely gorgeous. His blue eyes were enough to make Harry feel at home. Comforted. Their blueness was amplified by the pool on tears covering them. 

If Harry were to die now, he would be okay with Louis as the last thing he ever saw. Actually, he would be more than okay. Ideal even. Fortunately, he didn't die.

Harry slid down the wall as his father was dragged away from him. A police officer immediately grabbed his arm, helping him stand up. 

The officer was speaking to him. He was probably asking if he was okay or what happened, but Harry wasn't listening. Instead, he was watching his dad get dragged away by another two officers. For the first time in a long time, the man had something on his face that took Harry a while to place. 

It took Harry's thoughts back to his childhood. That time when Harry, his mum, and his dad went to the park on a sunny afternoon. Back then, Harry had no worries. All he knew was that his dad loved him, his mum loved him, and he was happy. Even as a little kid, he saw the way his father looked at his mother. He loved her. 

Harry used to love to pose while sliding down the slide. His parents would clap so loudly after every slide, giving his a score out of ten like they did in the Olympics. His mother would rest her head on his father's shoulders. He would smile with her, so proud of the child they had created together. He had loved his family so much. 

Through alcoholism, the man realized that anything he loved could quickly be taken away from him. He viewed love as a weakness, slowly growing colder to his family. He let nothing else into his life except for his bottles. They could never let him down. 

Harry recognized the look on his face. He looked vulnerable. For the first time since he had loved his family, he had something to lose here. And he was losing.

"Dad," Harry called out just before they reached the stairs. The name felt weird on Harry's tongue, like a foreigner with a name that didn't match their face. The officers stopped and let the man turn around to face his son.

"Just so you know," Harry licked his dry lips, tasting the metallic taste of blood. "If you stop being such an asshole, I'll forgive you."

Harry swore he saw something flicker through the man's eyes before the two men grabbed him, and pulled him up the stairs. 

"Sir, could you answer some question for me?" The officer that was still standing beside Harry asked politely. 

"Could you give me a couple minutes to talk to my friend?" Harry pleaded, motioning at Jaqueline. 

The officer checked his watch, hesitating. Harry gave the saddest look he could muster up and just stared at the officer. It helped a lot that his face was covered in blood. "Please?"

"Fine."

Harry quickly walked to Jaqueline, but before he could open his mouth, she asked him the same question he was going to ask her. "Did you call them?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "In case you didn't notice, I was busy being beaten up. I thought you called them?"

"Nope, wasn't me. I was trying not to fall down the stairs." She replied.