The year is 1872, the Rogues of London move away from their hometown and out to sea in search of new adventure. However, oceans bite back, pirates are waiting, and stranger love is to be found out there.
Larry Stylinson, including all of One Direct...
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Above: Zayn
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The voice that echoed down from the high walls of the ship was rusty, gruff sounding, as if it had been used more than it should have. The voice was a male one, for certain, and sounded to belong to someone over the age of fifty. The man could not sing, despite the fact that he was, and his voice seemed to bellow the words accompanied by an accordion.
Louis listened, but he couldn't focus on what was being said. His heart raced in his chest, his eyes looked up at the ship, but he was only focussing on one thing. The rain, he was sure of it, was beating from opposite directions. That in itself was unusual seeing as the wind only came from the west, but what had caught his attention were that the sounds coming from high above them happened to be in rhythm with the rain that came down on the fishing boat. It was as if the ship was controlling the rain, charming it to fall where she desired, and that was something so obvious that every Steamer standing on the deck caught onto it.
They stayed there, standing in the shadow of the massive ship, listening to the voice that echoed right on top of them. Not one of them could speak, not one of them could move, but all they could do was stare in curiosity, in awe, and in trembling fear.
Finally, Louis managed to turn his head. He looked at his comrades, and then he saw what had been happening the whole time. "Hey!" He shouted, putting his arm above his head as he squinted through the rain. Despite being right beside them, his voice carried an infinite times less than the one no where near. "Hey! Snap out of it!" He screamed again.
None of his comrades moved. They were mesmerized by the voice up there, falling deeper under the trance that Louis had fought so hard to pull away from. Every pair of eyes looking up there were wide, pupils small, and not seeing anything but the desire they had to climb aboard the ship and surrender to whoever was calling.
Louis glanced back at the ship, then at his comrades, arm resting on his forehead to stop the rain from hitting his face. He didn't know what to do, and he was unsure if he should try to snap his comrades out of the hypnotic sounds or if he should see what would come next. He put his hands on his ears. The song was luring, reeling them in like fish of hooks, and Louis could tell that those hooks had torn right through his comrades.
"Hey! Wake up!" He screamed. He stayed at a distance, unsure of what might happen if he were to approach. "Harry! Please!"
The Gypsy did not turn his head, and Louis' voice did not make its way to his brain. Louis waited, watching his lovers body tilt towards the sound of the ship. He looked like he was about to jump off the boat, but if he were to do so, the rough ocean would catch him forever.
"Harry!" Louis screamed again. His voice shouted so loud that it tore the air, it hurt his throat, and it became raspy with the force that shouldn't have been used. Louis could see what was happening; the ship was not out there to capture them, but she was there to annihilate the parasites that roamed the sea.
