daddy's little angel - dark zarry

chapter five

    The hum of the gun, was making him physically sick. It felt like he could hear someone clawing on a chalkboard, dragging their nails down it. Every time the sound would stop and repeat, his body would tense, making him want to cover his ears and run out the room.

    "Jesus Christ fairy, you're not even getting the fucking tattoo," the blue eyed teen next to him exclaimed, getting annoyed with the smaller boy's actions.

    Zayn paused for a moment, wiping the excess ink of the boy's arm, before fully turning his head over to the teens; finally giving them a good look.

    He noticed the curly haired boy; actually noticed him. He didn't look like the other boys. His feet were propped up on the chair, his chin resting on his knees, with the hood of the plum colored sweatshirt, covering his head, though some of his curls showed. He wasn't making eye contact with anyone, they were down, staring at arms, that were wrapped around his legs, as he pulled at his sleeves.

    "Are you good, kid?" Zayn asked, genuinely concerned for the boy. Zayn rarely showed any type of emotion, not even to his own fiancée. He was a kept person, both physically and mentally. He never let his heart spill through words, which is why he was so passionate with art. It kept him tamed.

    The boy looked up, his shining green orbs meeting the man's honey brown's. Something inside the artist stopped. Something he couldn't explain. It was as if he was hypnotized by the boy's eyes. So young and pure. Vulnerable.

Harry didn't feel the same reaction, he averted his eyes to the wall across from him. There was something about his eyes that he didn't like. They were intimidating and felt overpowering. Like they wanted to control him.

"He's fine, he does this shit all the time," the boy in the leather chair chirped in. "Hey I was thinking; could you do a diagonal line underneath the board? Kind of like a ramp?"

Five minutes later, Louis's arm was deeply red from irritation and was imprinted with a stick figure going up a ramp on a skateboard. And he couldn't have been happier.

"Haz, look," Louis said eagerly, hopping off the chair, to walk over to the teens, who were getting up from their seats as well.

Harry's eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his head. He couldn't believe Louis had actually gone through with the process. A tattoo. A tattoo of a stick figure. A tattoo of a stick figure on his arm.

"Mate, I can't believe you actually did it," Calvin said, looking at the tattoo in awe.

As the teens continue to stare at the design, the artist stood up from the chair, handing Louis a small paper with a list of instructions.

"Go to the front and tell them how much I said it would cost," he said, nonchalantly, as Louis took the paper.

"Yeah, thanks man," Louis thanked, as the group began to disappear through the door, Harry trailing behind, as usually.

"Hey kid, hang on a sec," Zayn called out to the curly haired boy, completely deaf to the other teens.

Harry looked back, weary, as he slowly walked back into the room. Zayn leaned against the leather chair, his costumer recently sat in, arms crossed, as he stared at the boy who was looking back with innocent eyes. "I wanted to ask you about your friends. Do they talk to you like that a lot?"

Harry dug his teeth into his bottom lip, as he shrugged. The way his teeth connected to his lip gave Zayn a stiff feeling, that he quickly ignored.

"You don't have to be open with me about anything, but that shit's not okay. Yeah fucking around here and there is fine, but that didn't look like a joke."

"They're not my friends," Harry argued, making Zayn raise his brows in show. For a delicate appearance, he had such deep voice, even for a boy his age. "Louis's my friend and they're Louis's friends."

"What's your name, kid?" Zayn asked.

"Harry."

"And how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Well listen, Harry," Zayn stated, standing up straight, his arms still crossed in a godly like manner. "I know what it's like to deal with arseholes, believe me, and it really fucks with your head at that age. But you gotta stand up for yourself, kid."

"I-I don't want to," Harry stutter.

"Why not?"

"Because that's not nice. If you fight fire with fire, all you get is a bigger fire. Kill people with kindness."

Zayn's heart almost completely stopped, hearing those words escape from the boy's mouth. While he would never take that statement for himself, the way Harry said it, it displayed something most people don't have. A good heart. A good heart inside of a pretty boy. A very pretty boy.

"I ha-have to g-go now," Harry said, stumbling with his words, he was never comfortable talking to people, especially new people. The words formed in his head but could never come out as smoothly as he hoped.

"Yeah okay, it was nice talking to you, Harry," Zayn said.

"You too."

-    -    -   

    "Come here, baby."

    Niall tried his hardest to keep the grimaced expression from his face, as the man leaned close, suffocating him in a kiss. It wasn't heated or passionate, more so of a peck that lingered. According to Luke's watch it was around ten at night and that's was when he came to check on them.

    A week. One full week and Niall was going crazy. He barely ate, barely drank, and barely slept. Each and every day that man would come down, from that metal ladder, and touch him, thankfully not in the way he touched his blonde companion, but Niall knew that day was coming. For now, all he dealt with was petting and kissing.

    Aside from oral, Niall didn't see the two perform any other type of sex. While that did not make the incidents anymore okay, it gave him some type of ease. But Niall knew they had gone farther than what he had witnessed. He saw it in Luke's eyes. His empty eyes.

    They tried to hold conversations with each other, but it seemed fairly difficult. Before this all started, neither boy really enjoyed the company of each other. It was a dumb feud that started in middle school that just built up over the years. Luke thought Niall was too loud, Niall thought Luke was obnoxious. It was nothing ever heated, just a simple "I don't like him," if one of their names ever got brought up. But old rivalry didn't seem to matter at this point.

    They had each other, they needed each other. Luke would have been completely gone if it wasn't for Niall and Niall would have probably gotten the beating of his life if it wasn't for Luke's advice. Their goal was survival; well, mainly Niall's.

    "My beautiful baby," daddy breathed, removing his lips from the blonde's, as their foreheads touched.

    Luke, who wasn't seated too far from the two, stared in wonder. He hadn't seen him like this in a while. The man was very passionate and loved to touch them, but something was different. It's like he was craving their touch. Like he was triggered.

    "I need to ask you both something. Can you answer a question for daddy?" Though he was still staring in Niall's eyes, the questions was for both boys.

    Niall slowly nodded, along with the man, who was grinning at his obedience.

    "Baby, how old are you?"

    "Si-sixteen,' Niall gulped.

    "And you, pumpkin?" the man asked, staring over at the blonde next to them.

    "Seventeen."

    "Wonderful," the man smiled.

    He leaned against the cracked wall, bringing Niall to his chest. The blonde tried his hardest not to squirm as the man's tattooed arms were wrapped tightly around his body, smoldering him.

    "Let me ask you both something," he announced, giving Niall a small kiss on his temple. "Do either of you know a boy named Harry?"