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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The daytime came fast, sunlight splaying a bright light through the open porthole and glaring off the wall by the door. There was no indication out to sea to tell Louis what time it was, and each morning he'd be surprised to wake up naturally rather than to the cooing of a cockrel like the ones back in London. And so he lay there on the bug-infested bed, staring at the dust particles in the sunlit air as they danced together, blowing around when the sea breeze caught them.
Louis, despite knowing that all of his comrades were alive and well, could not get the empty pit of worry out of his stomach, and that was what had woken him up in the first place. It wasn't a pleasant feeling that nagged at his mind, even less so by the fact that he was unsure where the cause of it came from. He still had so many questions to ask, to both his crew and to Blackbeard. Perhaps the lack of control he had that made it difficult to asses the situation was the origin of his worry, and since he did not know, he accepted that theory and forced it to the back of his mind.
He looked to his right, turning his whole body until he was lying with his bandaged hands under his face, and rested his gaze on Harry. On his Husband. It felt strange to know that they were married-to think that over all of the beautiful people in the world, Harry had chosen to commit himself to the most ugly and worthless of them all.
Louis had no qualities that he could think of which would make Harry love him in the way that he did. Harry was talented, gorgeous, and kind to anyone despite being rather reserved. Louis had none of those things, and he knew that people would, and always had, chosen Harry over him. Maybe Louis really had been meant to die back in Edvard's mansion; he certainly couldn't see a reason as to why anyone would choose to let him live. He was the least appealing of all of his comrades, both physically and mentally. Zayn was good with words and wisdom, Hanji was equally as skilled in the scientific field. Niall was an excellent cook and engineer, Liam was a strong fighter along with Erin, Harry was perfect in everything-and then there was Louis.
Louis had no talent, no qualities, and the Steamers could certainly manage perfectly well without him.
But, despite Louis not realising this clearly-Harry had been given a choice; the one to choose anyone in the world over Louis. For sure, Harry knew his chances. Thanks to his inventions and their recognition, he'd become quite famous back in London, and had been unable to hide himself without his cloak. He could have chosen any girl in the world, and that, still to this day, frightened Louis to the core. Louis not show it, may play the 'Man with no fears' all of this while, but he was still just a young child at heart-terrified that Harry would replace him.
Louis' face saddened and he turned back around on himself, facing away from Harry. He'd lost his physical confidence because of Edvard and the people of London who'd constantly stare and mock him. Louis no longer liked to show his face, but the more he hid, the more people seemed to stare. In fact, his heart was still hurt from Rory's comment, and it constantly tugged at his mind. It was not Louis' fault that he had lost his eye and a leg, not his fault that his cheek was burned, and not his fault that glass shards were still buried deep under his skin, but he felt guilty for it all.
