Caught

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A/N- Some sherliam and like a mention of lemon

William stood facing Louis, the room was empty, the dim moonlight shining through the window illuminated the darkened room. There was a silence.

The air was tense, William nor Louis spoke, the two of them feared to speak, to break the silence that suffocated them.

William didn't dare look Louis in the eyes. He felt ashamed and instead, looked down at the floor beneath him. Louis was also looking down, trying to sort out the thoughts of everything he had just seen.

Thinking of what had happened earlier, Louis stayed speechless, deep in thought. It was during this very same night, an hour before, that Louis had come to William's bedroom to ask of him something of little importance.

Once he had stepped foot in the darkened room, he was witness to a scene he found horrifying. Something he thought he'd never see. There he was, William, sleeping with no other than the great detective, Sherlock Holmes.

They were unclothed, instead, their clothes strewn on the floor. Louis shuddered at the thought. It scared him to see William in such a vulnerable state, with none other than that detective.

When William woke up to see Louis, standing in shock at the doorway, he didn't try to make any excuses at all. Louis had seen enough to know what had happened.

It was over, and the truth was out. After Sherlock had left and William had got himself cleaned up, he had beckoned his younger brother to his room, so that they could talk over what had transpired that night. But instead of talking, here they were, both avoiding the gaze of one another. None of them dared to utter a single word.

William looked up slowly. There his younger brother stood, he looked so sad, so sorrowful. William knew it was all his fault. He should have told his brother, he should have told him the truth. Now, he was paying the price for keeping such a secret. William knew he had to try to make things right, he had to try and fix the broken pieces.

"Louis." That was all William managed before stopping himself.

Louis's head jerked up, and he stared at him, right in the eyes. William felt the weight of Louis's gaze on him, the pool of sadness that came with it.

Louis waited patiently in silence for his older brother to continue. William looked up again, and his eyes met Louis. The least I could do is look him in the eye when I tell him.

William took a final deep breath, and he started to talk.

"Louis, I know how you must be feeling right now-"

William had started to say, but Louis interrupted him, his words cutting through William's like a knife.

"You don't know anything about how I'm feeling, Brother. How can you understand how I'm feeling? I've been stabbed in the back by my very own brother whom I've trusted with my life. I don't want an explanation, Brother, I've seen enough." With that, Louis started to leave the room, frustrated, feeling betrayed. But he was stopped.

William grabbed a hold of Louis's arm, preventing him from leaving. He didn't want to be alone right now, he needed Louis, and he owed him an explanation, and most of all, an apology.

The truth was that William was breaking down on the inside, he wanted to cry out to Louis, ask him for forgiveness, forgiveness he didn't deserve. But it was his ego that got in the way.

He would not let Louis see him so weak and vulnerable ever again. So, he kept the mask of the emotionless mask on his face as he held Louis, grabbing on to his arm pleadingly.

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