larry stylinson oneshots

your touch drove me insane

He felt like he was drowning. The feeling of helplessness as you thrash around in the water, anxious to supply your lungs with air, was spreading throughout his body. And as your lungs fill with water instead, a sharp burn arrives, sending you into a state of panic. The burn had started to brush across his skin. Of course, as you go into a frenzy, you continue to deplete your oxygen, and your vision will go dark. All you can see is darkness.

All Louis could see was darkness. Empty cans of spray paint lay scattered around him as he tucked his head into his knees. He felt so empty. Like his soul was missing something, a type of warmth. Something that would fight the cold bitterness that stemmed from the heart of his city. It plagued everybody, latching onto them as soon as they take their first breath. It wrapped itself around any source of hope and crushed it, eradicating its presence.

Gotham was a demoralized city. The wealthy ruled the streets, not caring how many people they stepped on to stay at the top. They flooded the streets with drugs and overlooked the everlasting crime occurring in front of them. Everyone pretended not to care; they made no effort to fix anything. Instead, they relied on a dark knight. Louis thought it to be ridiculous, but he didn't care anymore. He preferred to decorate the walls and put a little colour into his dark world.

"Yes!"

Louis' head snapped up as the shout entered his ears. A lean figure was standing in front of his art, a camera pressed against their face. The first flash went off in the alleyway, and Louis let out a small gasp. Immediately covering his mouth with his hands, he shrunk into the darkness as the person looked towards him.

"Hello?"

They lowered their camera and took a step in Louis' direction, "If you're here, which, uh, you might not be, and I could be hearing things, but I like your art. I mean, if this was you. Hopefully, it was because otherwise, I'm just spewing nonsense. I, uh, usually take photos of all your stuff. By stuff, I mean art-"

And Louis listened as the person rambled on. Tiny grins took over his face as they expressed their love for his work. They loved the way everything was black, the only other colour being the red that brought the piece to life. They adored running around the city to find the newest design. And if that was the first bit of light that made its way into his darkened heart, then Louis was very eager to see what else that person had to offer.

"Hi, I'm Louis."

"Oh! I'm Harry!"

-

"I hate it here."

Louis looked behind him and raised an eyebrow at his friend. "You know, you can leave if you want."

The taller boy rapidly shook his head. Tiny puffs of air escaped his mouth as he opened and closed it repeatedly, trying to put his thoughts into words. His eyes followed Louis' movements as he began to weave bits of red into the black on the wall.

"I hate this. Where we are. The constant feeling of-"

"Despair?" Louis finished, stepping back to stand beside Harry.

Staring back at the two was a statement, painted intricately, standing out amongst the dark buildings. Harry fumbled for his camera and aimed it with perfection. Louis watched as he captured the words flawlessly, everything popping in just the right places.

'THE ONLY WARMTH WILL COME FROM BURNING YOU DOWN'

And Harry grinned. A wide grin that resembled The Cheshire Cat's took over his face. He tucked his camera into its bag and moved his hand towards Louis'. Louis only glanced towards Harry as he felt something run down his forearm and intertwine with his fingers. It felt nice, Harry's warm hand in his.

-

Boom boom boom

Harry's heartbeat blended with the blasts occurring in front of the two boys. Leaned against the metal fence, Harry sighed as he raked his fingers through the grass. Smoke started to waft through the space and fouled the once-crisp air they were breathing.

"Do you think we'll ever get out of here?"

Louis opened his eyes to meet Harry's. The latter was fiddling with a flower, a frown evident on his face. Louis moved his head out of Harry's lap and sat up beside him. He locked his gaze on red and blue lights.

"I don't know." He paused. "I don't think we'll ever truly escape."

Harry hummed in response and placed the flower back onto the ground. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts as his thumb hovered over the plant. Louis watched as he pushed it into the dirt, its petals falling apart.

"I've always wanted to do something more with my life," Harry started. "Maybe change lives."

Louis chuckled as his head made its way back down. "How do you plan on doing that?"

Moving his fingers to Louis' hair, Harry ran them through, mimicking his earlier actions. A small smile made its way onto his face as Louis let his body relax at the touch.

"Well, first, I'd need a partner in crime."

"Ah, of course. It's a shame you don't have any friends."

Harry scoffed, and his fingers rested gently in Louis' hair. "And to think I was going to ask you."

Louis shook his head and urged Harry to continue working through his hair. Harry, never one to say no to Louis, complied before speaking up again, "I'm going to ask you anyway."

"Alright, darling, go ahead."

"Ahem, Louis."

"Yes?"

"Will you do me the honour-"

"Oh boy, what are you doing?" Louis mumbled, Harry's antics warming his heart.

"-Of being my boyfriend?"

-

And Louis said yes. He said yes, and he no longer felt like he was drowning. The water in his lungs was gone, slowly being filled with something else. The burn on his skin faded, replaced with the refined warmth provided by Harry. But, his soul had undergone the most considerable change. It had gone from cold and frigid to scorching hot. It was like a blazing fire, and it was fulfilling.

Soon graffiti became inadequate for him; it stopped being an outlet for his frustrations. So he sought out other methods. Nothing seemed to bring him the satisfaction that he was seeking.

Until the first body.

He didn't mean to knock the young man off the bridge. It was dark, and he may have been a bit tipsy. It didn't cross his mind that he had, essentially, killed someone. He was more focused on the sensation taking over his body, the feeling that spray-painting walls used to give him. And after he stopped peeking over the edge, he tuned into the small giggles that Harry was trying to hold in.

"Let 'em out, Haz."

Harry's eyes widened, but he did. Louis adored the sound and stepped towards him to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. In a town of madness, someone laughing in the dead of night went overlooked because there were more pressing matters.

Right?