Escapade - Larry Stylinson (Re-write)

XXVIII - Dead for Two

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Louis and Harry meandered down the stairs early the next morning, following the sounds of Louis' parents and siblings arguing in the kitchen over who should lay the table and what plates should go where.

Upon seeing Louis in his rainbow dungarees, prancing into the room with a man like Harry, everyone fell silent.

Harry stopped under the open arch doorway, chin tilted upwards and glistening eyes.

Louis had noticed while they were getting dressed, that Harry was still drifting in and out of reality. He'd not always heard his surroundings, or he'd given a response that didn't fit the question asked. Multiple times, his topic of conversation had changed in the middle of a sentence, and he'd not seemed to be aware of it doing so. For instance, he'd said,
'The birds we let out made it back to she wanted Olivia to eat the cake.'

Despite it all, he was still able to carry himself like no one in the world could reach him. Those in the dining room cowered, shrinking back into their seats or holding the plates and cutlery to their chests for protection. They said nothing, nor did the murderer with Raspberry Rose curls.

"Um—that's Harry." Louis said. "He stayed the night."

Louis could see judgement on the faces of all of those who stared back, and how uncomfortable the air was. It was a mix of disapproval over his looks and instinctive fear that many had around Harry. The same fear that wild animals would have at a waterhole when a lion walked by to have a drink.

Louis' mother was the first to react, wavering on the spot for a moment before putting the plates down and rushing up to shake Harry's hand.

"Hello!" She said with a smile that came across as more unnerved than the friendly one she was hoping for. "You must be Liam and Zayn's friend! Goodness, do those boys sleep late, don't they? I'm Liam's mother."

Harry greeted her with nothing more than a dismissive nod and a grip so tight that her knuckles whitened. He had the same way of presenting himself to her as he had with Maple, with Liam, and with anyone else that Louis had seen him interact with. It was a strange behaviour, as if social interaction was completely alien to him. As if, perhaps, Harry's mind didn't work in the same way other people's did; and he wasn't quite sure how to adapt.

"Cat food." Harry said in a low tone,"Do you have any cat food?"

Louis' mother took her hands away from where she was shaking Harry's, and rubbed them together as though attempting to wash away the greeting.

"I'm—I'm afraid not."
"I understand. Cat food is very expensive. Particularly when you have no cat."

Louis stared at Harry. The man seemed unfazed by how uncomfortable he was making everyone. He'd brought the attitude meant for the carparks, a power imbalance that reduced people else to dust. Whether it was an inability to distance himself from it, or the thrill of being in power—his behaviour was not appropriate nor was it funny. Louis was particularly horrified.

"Maybe—do you want some breakfast? Please?" He said, stepping between his mother and Harry.

He lead Harry to the table and the man sat down in silence, staring at the person on the opposite side through half-lidded eyes, and that person was Louis' father.