Imprisoned In My Heart: A Larry Stylinson Fanfic

4.

“I get an office?” Louis asked eagerly.

“You sure do. Now that you’ve decided to stick around, they’ve set aside a little room for you, so you can have a little privacy with the guys. Confidentiality and so on.”

“But…an actual office? My own office?”

“The only thing you’ll be sharing that office with is the photocopier,” Liam promised.

A photocopier was a weird thing to have in a prison, but Louis didn’t comment. Already he was planning how to make the office his own; he’d always wanted an office, although he wasn’t entirely sure why. He liked decorating. One of his favourite things about getting his own flat had been customizing it, arranging all the little homely touches that made a house into a home. He was thrilled – his very own office! Not that it would be a very large one. Perhaps the size of a box room, he expected; very modest, very simple. Would he have a desk? He really wanted a desk. And he was determined to invest in a little plaque with his name on, a gold one that he could place in front of him to make him look important. Louis grinned.

“Here we are,” Liam announced, reaching for the first door they had encountered that wasn’t locked. He twisted the handle and threw it open, and Louis instantly poked his head inside.

It wasn’t exactly a large room, but it wasn’t tiny; it was somewhere between small and average. There were no windows; all the light came from a small and dusty lamp in one corner, which flickered occasionally. He did, to his delight, have a desk, and there was a huge, high-backed, dark red chair sat behind it, the kind of spinning office chair that evil villains with cats occupied in clichéd spy movies. It was quite threadbare, with a few rips, patches and clumsily mended tears, but it was a chair nonetheless. Opposite it, on the other side of the desk closest to the door, was a limp faded green armchair with the stuffing leaking out of it, looking very sorry for itself. There was a filing cabinet in one corner, and the photocopier sat in the other, by far the cleanest thing in the room. Even the desk was wobbly, one leg half missing so that one side of it was propped up with old telephone directories, and it creaked uneasily every few seconds, as if it might collapse if someone put so much as a piece of paper on it. The hinges of the door squeaked, there were cobwebs strategically placed in high corners that would be almost impossible to clean, and several ominous stains on the carpet stared accusingly at him, as if daring him to attempt to remove them. A balding doormat that was turning grey lounged in the doorway, not doing very much apart from masquerading as a rug. Oh, and the only thing on the unstable-looking desk was some kind of potted plant. It was limp and practically dead, brown leaves drooping, but it was a plant of some kind, no matter how lifeless.

“Oh my God!” Louis cried. “I’ve got a plant!”

“You’ve got somewhere to hide your briefcase,” Liam smirked.

“Yeah, but…I’ve got a plant!”

“You, my friend, are easily excited,” Liam told him pityingly, patting him on the back. “But come here for a second.” He led Louis over to the desk and the two of them stood behind it.

“I can’t believe I have my own office – and it comes with a free plant,” Louis said dreamily.

“Just remember something, and this is important. Here, give me your hand.” Taking Louis’ hand, he slipped it under the desk and slid it across the wood. “I know it’s here somewhere…aha! There! Feel that?”

“Yes…” Louis said cautiously. “It feels like a bump.”

“It’s a button. Don’t press it!”

Louis almost snatched his hand away, but Liam held him in place.

“Relax! It’s not dangerous. But don’t press it. This is your panic button. It’s your contingency plan, if you like. We’re legally obligated to let the prisoners have their privacy and not listen in to anything they tell you. It’s all because of closure, or something. Don’t ask me about the legal stuff; I haven’t a clue. But you keep quiet about this button, because if anyone starts getting nasty with you, all you have to do is press it. There’ll be someone outside at all times; if you press the button, we’ll be in here before you know it. As long as nobody knows about that little button, you’re safe.”