strings that snap | larry

twelve

Louis stiffens. Harry is treading dangerous waters because why is he going to speak to the president? 

It doesn't bother him that they won't be celebrating his birthday. Louis is actually kind of grateful he won't have to kick Harry out. His birthday had always been booked with appointments. His value went up when he was the birthday boy.

His problem is that Harry sounds like such a child. Like he's asking what to wear when he goes over to his grandparents house. He sounds so innocent. Louis tries to tell himself that the obvious isn't happening.

His mouth is dry but he manages to ask a question anyway. "Why do you need to know?"

"I have a meeting with him today. He says he has something important to tell me." Harry looks so bashful. Louis doesn't want to crush him.

"Oh, okay." Louis pushes the fluffy pieces of pancake around his plate. "Wear that white button up with the black pants." He advises.

Harry is throwing his plate in the sink and running to Louis' room before the other boy can even blink. 

And yeah, Harry kind of lived with him now. He still slept on the couch and a lot of the time Louis would sleep in the chair next to him. Harry kept his clothes in one of Louis' drawers. He also made sure Louis' always had some food and Louis always made sure Harry ate too.

****

Louis is sitting on the couch the next day, waiting. He's exhausted. His clients didn't stop coming until four o'clock that morning.

He had spent the previous hour in the shower. It would have been a lot longer if he hadn't known that Harry was probably going to be home soon.

It's longer than he expects it to be.

When Harry walks in the door, he looks like a wreck. His eyes are bloodshot like he's been crying and he's wearing different clothes than he left in. Louis feels a little pang in his heart. He tries not to acknowledge it.

The curly headed boy sits as far away from Louis as possible without saying a word. It's almost concerning.

Silence echoes through the room and bounces around in Louis' head. He flips on the television thinking that maybe it'll make this less awkward than it is. The news popping up on the screen doesn't help at all.

It's some boring man talking about profits that the Capitol is making. They don't mention Districts suffering or all the people they've stepped on. What Louis says next surprises even him. He says it with such hatred that he knew he had deep down, but had never really surfaced.

"Another day, another dollar for our lovely president." He watches the television with hard, cold eyes before turning to the person sitting on the other end of the sofa. "How's it feel to be his new money maker?" 

The question is a harsh whisper.

Louis feels guilty. He feels like this is all his fault. He thinks that maybe, just maybe if Louis had never spoken to Harry then none of this would have happened.

But then again, he suspected this from the beginning.

Harry just makes a choked sound in the back of his throat and Louis tries to ignore the fact that there are tears rolling down the boys face. "Why?" The curly headed boy manages to get out.

Louis lets the simple question sink in. 

"We're all paying for our sins," His tone is stone cold. "But you don't have as many as everyone else just yet."

****

"You're going to tell me." 

It's sudden, it's  out of the blue. Harry, in all his time here, has never demanded anything from Louis. Louis doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"And what exactly am I going to tell you?" Louis' voice is sharp and concise. He wants to be left alone. He's on the last chapter of his book.

"Why you dislike me so much."

Louis sometimes forgets that Harry is a force to be reckoned with. He's bigger than life itself and he's not just a little boy.  

"And don't you dare say it's for another time." Harry gets out before Louis can even open his mouth. The older boy just sits there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

Louis had never seen this boy angry in person. His mood swings were from happy to sad, he had never lashed out at him. But the boy leaning over him was red and his hands were clenched. Louis was sitting, which didn't help. Harry towered over him when he was standing too.

"Harry," Louis huffs and buries his face in his book. "I don't want to talk about this right now. Just please let me-"

 A large hand is on the back of Louis' neck and he freezes.

Maybe he shouldn't have said what he did in training. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut like Daphne told him.

Everyone was whispering and he wasn't sure why. Daphne and Louis sat on the floor, trying to start a fire. The girl's fingers fiddled with the flint.

"Okay, Louis. Now just strike it like this." A little spark flies and Louis looks at her like she's just performed a magic trick. When he tries, there's nothing.

There's a large hand on the back of his neck and the fingers begin to curl. He drops the flint in surprise and flails his arms. He's really not sure what to do.

Daphne is yelling. Calling for some sort of instructor. He thinks this is the end of him, that he'll be dead before he even makes it to the arena. Maybe it was for the best.

And nothing feels worse when the boy from District 1 finally drops him on the floor, being restrained by three trainers. Louis just lays there as Daphne looks down on him. He wants to cry.

"Please, remove your hand from my neck." Louis' voice wavers. He is definitely not as strong as he used to be. 

He is trying not to fall into hysterics. Harry's hand doesn't move. His body begins to shake, it's going to shut down.

"I will tell you once you let go, Harry. I promise." The other man is surprisingly silent. He doesn't show any signs of moving his hand. The most scared man alive is holding on to Louis' neck and is not afraid, does not show mercy.

"Don't go killing me like you killed her." He bites out and it was a mistake from the moment it left his lips. He feels the fingers tighten around his throat.

There are spots appearing in Louis' vision and he is not exactly sure the last time he took a proper breath. This is not how Louis Tomlinson will go out. This is not the ending he deserved.

"Harry." He manages to croak out. Panic is beginning to set in more fervently. Think this through. He is sitting down, Harry is behind him. What can he do? What can Louis possibly do?

Harry's hands are at the front of his throat. Louis pushes his chin down to his chest, making it harder for the taller man to squeeze any further. He let's go of his book, promptly losing his place, and putting his hands over Harry's.

"You have two seconds to let go of me, Styles." All he gets in response is a growl.

Harry has to weigh fifty more pounds than Louis does. Regardless, Louis tightens his grip on Harry's hands and twists. There is a cry from behind him as he threw in force, making the boy twist.

Louis is aware that there will be bruises on his neck in the morning, but he gets up regardless. Dizzy. He is very dizzy. Harry is lying on the floor, looking like a kicked puppy. Maybe he was in shock.

Louis picks up his book and goes back to reading, Harry whimpering in the background.