Clean Criminal // l.s.

xiv.

There was nothing for Louis to do since he had cleaned the cell as best as he could to his ability. Not even Mr. Clean could fix this problem, Louis finally decided as he laid uncomfortably on the bed. It's as if they wanted him to be anxious and on the edge. Who knew how many germs were entering his body! This place was deadly.

"Hey," a voice spoke. Louis looked over his toes to see Harry standing on the other side of the cell, "I thought you'd like me to bring you food instead of some stranger." Harry carefully gave the Styrofoam plate to Louis who cringed at the sounds it made, "sorry," Harry spoke weakly. But he didn't know what he was more sorry for: having to watch Louis be in the cell all alone or being the one who put them there.

"Thanks," Louis said, feeling as though his trust was betrayed as he walked back towards the cold bed. He knew very well that Zayn would have made sure this never happened; Louis would never spend a night in jail if Zayn were there.

"Lou, I'm--"

"Don't even start, Harry," Louis said harshly, "nothing you can say now can fix the fact that I'm in here for the rest of the night."

"What if I told you that we got him?" Harry questioned out of curiosity, "what if we got the killer? What would you do then?"

Louis looked at Harry from his spot on his bed, "don't even try and play games with me, Harry. It's no use. Obviously you don't have him." 

"If I find him, will you love me again?" Harry asked quickly, a question begging to be answered. 

Louis looked at Harry in disbelief, "I never even said that!" 

"But I know you do. I feel it, Lou. I feel how attached to me you are and I know you can feel how much I care for you. We...we're destined to be and that's a truth. I feel it deep down in my bones, we're meant to be. We're made for each other. Don't you think that?"

How could Louis possibly think that? He didn't even know Harry. For all he knew, Harry could have been the one to kill Zayn. He could be some sick pervert trying to get into Louis' pants.

But Louis knew this wasn't the case. Harry was loving, sweet, honest. He knew how to handle a breaking heart, "just takes a few stitches is all," he had said. Although the fact of metaphorical stitches had gone right over Louis' head, he laughed anyways, because that's how Harry made him feel; he always felt that way with Harry. 

So this made everything a million times more difficult when he spoke again, "no. Now get that nonsense out of your head and leave me alone. We're done here."

"Louis--"

"No, Harry!" Louis said, quickly standing on his feet to walk towards the bars of the cell, "we're done."

"I'm sorry, truly I am!"

"Sorry doesn't fix things, Harry. You should know that. So nothing you say or do will ever make this better," Louis wiped at the tears on his cheeks. He was coming undone right in front of Harry and there was no way to stop any of it, "I was a fool--a childish fool--for ever thinking that we'd be together, that we'd be something. Maybe that was my mistake, maybe that's my number one regret."

It was totally out of his job description, but he had to do it anyways, so Harry opened the cell door and brought Louis into a hug. "I know it doesn't fix anything, but I am sorry, Lou. I'm so sorry," Harry stated, his voice soft as he rocked Louis back and forth.

"I just want to get out of here," Louis cried against Harry's chest.

.

The night was rough for Louis. He had stayed up most the time, worried that he had left something out of order back at his apartment. Then he began thinking about how those lousy cops probably tore his place apart and how he'd have to take hours just to get things back to how they were.

So he tossed and turned all night as he tried to get just the most amount of sleep he could. He found this to be quite difficult, especially after his small fight with Harry.

But Harry had kissed him again and this time was better than the last. Louis honestly thought that he was going to fall from the way his legs weakened and his heart had begun to beat faster. As he was kissing Harry, he had this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach and all he wanted to do was kiss Harry over and over and over again.

"I have to go," Harry had whispered against Louis' lips before giving him one more kiss, "I've got a case to solve."

Louis then tightened his grip on Harry just the slightest as he begged, "please, Harry, please."

Harry rested his forehead on Louis, gently rubbing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss, "I can't, love. I have to get back to work. Someone will catch us."

"Let them," Louis said as he kissed Harry once more, "let them find us, I don't care."

Harry let out a short sigh, trying his hardest not to give in, "we'd get in trouble."

"I don't care," Louis said softly, wanting nothing more than to just have Harry all to himself. They could just cuddle up on the bed and talk for hours on end. He'd be happy that way. He'd be able to make it through the night. However, that wasn't the case.

Harry had said his final good-bye and soon left Louis' cell, leaving the poor lad to battle the night all alone. Louis had instantly gotten into bed, leaving his food to become cold, and tried to stay warm under the thin blankets.

Think warm thoughts, Louis had thought to himself, think about something fuzzy and fluffy, like...like kittens. So warm and soft and cute like Harry.

Louis smiled as he thought about the tall and awkward detective. Harry was adorable, humorous, and loving. He'd do anything for Louis and deep down Louis knew that. So he decided that maybe being in a cell for one night wasn't all that bad, especially if it got them one step closer to finding the actual killer.

"Lou? Are you up?" Harry asked as he stood out side of the cell.

Louis uncovered his face and sat up to look at Harry, "yeah?"

"We've found the killer."