Hidden Mate // Larry

Red Room*

...

Fumbling on his sheets of warmth and rest, a certain omega hides himself from the whole wide world. There's a certain yarn wrapped around his wrist, although he hadn't had much time to think of it since his heat started, so his fingers lazily play with it, waiting for another wave of the heat to hit him. His mind feels dizzy and not much thoughts can organise themselves properly, but he does remember why it stands there. He loves Paris as much as he hates it, for only one reason, it makes him strong...but at the same time makes him vulnerable and weak. It being his only fear.

Wandering around his dazzled heat, his mind wraps around what he misses most, he misses a person to hold him at this state. This state that somehow is the only thing that ever makes him feel incomplete. Like he doesn't own the one thing that could make his heart beat like crazy, make his skin go warm and fill with goosebumps, his stomach to bloom with butterflies. That teenage feeling that you can get at any age if given by the right person. The protective hand to hold him back, the supportive person to encourage him for more.

Another rush of heat settles on the pit of his stomach, travelling down to where he desperately wants and needs to be touched, no matter how hard he'll ever try, nothing will ever be enough to complete his needs and match his expectations.

The main reason why he hates heats...And so it settles down painful, like a itchy would you can't reach with your own hands, you can't scratch it and it just grows bigger and bigger, torturing you until you feel like passing out. The omega cries, not even trying to touch himself, not even trying to make the pain go away. Cries and cries, not knowing what to do, confused and tired. Curled up in his sheets, unprotected, alone, desperate...lost and forgotten. Deemed to go through all these heats alone. And he's never missed something he never had, ever before. He's never missed someone he doesn't even know before. His mate. Wondering...why hadn't he found him yet. Where is he?!

...

Louis sits up, covered in sweat. Breath labouring as he reaches out for the desk lamp. Lightening up a warm light that danced romantically over the red bricks and black paint of the rooms walls. As he tries to catch his breath again, suffocated by the dream or otherwise called memory, there's a knock on the door, impatient.

Louis clears his throat and put's on a fake smile.-"Come in."

The door cracks slightly open and Harry peeks in.-"Lou? You okay?"

Louis sits up properly, placing a pillow behind his back to keep his comfort.-"Sure, just woke up for some water."

"Than why did you call my name?"-Harry asked still holding the doorknob down releasing it with an unintentional noise.

Louis wrinkled his eyebrows.-"I did?"

Harry shrugged.-"I'm pretty sure I heard you moa- I mean...scream it."

Louis shrugged.-"Maybe. I don't know. Why where you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep...I was meditating."

"I hope that helps."

Harry nodded about to leave but actually standing on the doorstep a beat too long.

Louis knew he wouldn't be sleeping again that night, so he debated on asking Harry.-"H!"

"Yes?"