twenty - louis

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twenty – louis

Niall’s words haunted the man for the nights that followed after their walk.

            Louis kept twisting and turning in his room at night, trying to exclude Niall’s words from his mind about Harry being such an evil person, when the boy resembled a pretty cherubic angel, like the ones in the paintings of Michelangelo. He sometimes imagined how it would look like if someone ever painted Harry’s portrait – it certainly wouldn’t manage to capture his magnificent beauty in just one small canvas.

            Right then he was lying on his bed, Timmy curled on his chest, as he stroked the reptile’s rough, colorful skin, tracing his fingers over the green and yellow bumps. “Timmy,” Louis whispered, sighing quietly, “This is all so confusing,” he murmured to the reptile. When he first decided to join the circus, he thought it would have been easy to continue on with his life and search for another job once the circus would leave, but right then he wasn’t sure he could do that, neither to himself, nor to Harry. He wouldn’t be able to leave him alone in this place, without being able to protect him from any threatening danger.

            Hardly had Louis managed to fall asleep when he heard small thumps against the wooden floor, and soon saw a delicate figure approaching his room, wearing a white bed sheet around its body. The rain trickled against the roof of the tent, creating a dreadful silence as the person approached his room. It wasn’t until he was standing over his bed that Louis realized it was Harry, “Lou?” he mumbled tiredly, pushing the sheets with his hands so that Louis would let him in.

            “Darling,” Louis said fondly, letting Harry cuddle in his arms, “What are you doing up so late? We have a show tomorrow, you ought to sleep – “

            “Couldn’t sleep though,” Harry murmured, “Rather stay here with you.”

            “Of course darling,” Louis smiled, “What were you doing in your room all alone?”

            Harry shrugged, burying his body further into Louis’ embrace, “Reading.”

            Now Louis was surprised, “You read, poppet?” he asked him. He wasn’t trying to offend him however; Harry actually had to consider himself lucky for being able to ready when only wealthy people had that privilege, and considering Harry’s past, Louis thought the boy had never opened a book in his life.

            Harry didn’t seem offended either; “Mmm, Angie and Niall brought them from their trips, because I haven’t travelled yet. I don’t understand them sometimes, but they have pretty letters and drawing sometimes…”

            “That’s nice, poppet,” the man replied softly, turning into putty in front of Harry’s sweetness, “And what do you enjoy reading, little one?”

            Harry hesitated to answer at first, “I’m quite interested in the history of the Hungarian Kingdom.”

            “Really?” Louis gasped. He would have never thought his boy was interested in such sorts of things – he imagined him wearing his soft stocking and lingerie, sitting on his bed at night and reading about the history of a foreign country, fascinated, with Louis by his side to point the letters with his finger, and for every chapter that Harry would finish, Louis would reward him with a kiss – or, better yet, with something that did not only involve the labia oris.

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