stockholm syndrome

three

Louis felt himself draw in a quick breath. He had guessed the answer would be along the lines of such, but that didn't make it any easier to hear the words coming out of someone else's mouth. While he couldn't understand why anyone would care to fall in love with someone as irrelevant as himself, Harry's eyes convinced him that he spoke the truth.

"Harry..." Louis began, not sure where his train of thought was even heading, what his tongue even planned on verbalizing, but Harry cut him off again.

"You don't need to say anything. I know you don't feel the same and I by no means expect you to, okay? It's so disgusting that it took me falling for someone as pure as you to realize what a shit human I am, and I am so, so beyond sorry you got dragged into this mess. You don't deserve this, any of it. I'm sure Liam and Zayn would be happy to drive you back to your flat tonight. Turn me in if you want, I know I'd deserve it. I'll be here, I won't blame you. Just know that I'm sorry."

It was a lot for Louis to take in. So many thoughts, so many questions, all running and spreading like wildfire through Louis' brain as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. One, single clear message became the foremost out of all the ashes of misery filling him up. It warmed his heart, yet not in the way that scalded and left charred.

Louis couldn't believe that all the time he's been here, he'd been dreaming of freedom and home, but he had more of those things now than he had ever had before and ever would again.

And he couldn't leave. Not now, hell, maybe not ever. Harry needed him, and somehow Louis felt responsible for salvaging him; Harry's soul was certainly a lost one, but that didn't mean he could never be found again. Louis had the slightest flicker of hope for Harry, because he knew he was affected by him. If Harry decided to give up his life of crime just by meeting Louis... Louis was not one to turn down a challenge, and he was used to winning. Especially, when he knew it to be a matter of to live or to drown in wells of salt and sorrow.

"Harry, I don't think that will be necessary as of right now." Louis proceeded extremely cautiously, scared he would frighten the fragile butterfly before him, causing it to fly away and hide from its troubles as well as its saviors. Harry shook his head firmly before Louis was even finished talking.

"No Louis. I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to go home."

Does he not know I am home.

"It's not good for either of us if you stay here for one more second. Although I can't possibly fathom why you'd want to." Harry's voice had hardened, and he sounded sure in his decisions, even if they brought him discomfort. Louis wasn't having it; if Harry wanted to fight he picked the wrong opponent. Louis set his jaw,

"Dear God Harry, you kidnapped me for Heaven's sake. You don't just get to kick me out too. Give me a fucking break." He rolled his eyes, flopping back down onto the pillow for effect. This certainly provoked Harry, whose face deepened in it's shade of redness and his eyebrows furrowed angrily. Louis found his angry face quite adorable, because he looked more like a frustrated kitten than anything more frightening. He didn't giggle, although he wanted to, because Harry probably would have rethought not injuring him.

"LOUIS! What part of kidnapper is not clicking for you! You don't just wake up one day and decide BOOM, your life is turned around. It's a fucking addiction Louis, it doesn't just go away. You have no clue-" Harry broke off, voice trembling, lowering it before speaking again, "I'm not a good person, Louis, and I'm afraid of how I could hurt you. You have no idea how hard it's been for me to hold off Louis. I'm trying, I am, and you've been making it easier for me on some level at least, I guess. You're just so kind, so pure and when I look at you, I just want to be better, want to be good enough for someone like you. It's okay though, I'm not naive enough to think I'll ever be worthy of your love, Louis Tomlinson."