The God complex (Larry Stylinson)

4

"Louis and Harry?" A driver dressed in a black hoodie asks while peering vigilantly out his van window, Louis and Harry who are both holding their suitcases nod in unison "Get in."

They move closer to the van and Harry opens the rusty door, some dirt residue smearing on his fingers, he enters the van hesitantly and sees Louis hurry to the boot of the car and throw in both their suitcases before entering the van anxiously too.

One they're both in the cramped van, Harry realises that he hardly even has any space to breathe and Louis is way too close, closer than he's been to anyone in years.

Louis starts giggling quietly all of a sudden and instantly muffles it with the back of his palm, Harry knows Louis' laughing because this situation is awkward and confusing as he struggles to hold back a smile too.

"So where are we going?" Harry asks the dodgy driver.

"We are going to Kiev." Harry takes notice that his accent, just like the flight attendant, is very dominant too. "If there is very little traffic on motorway, then we will arrive in 45 minutes." 

The journey is quiet for a very long time, until Harry hears Louis mumble something to him but he's not really listening so he asks him to repeat,

"Kiev used to be so beautiful..." Louis' raspy voice says, Harry can feel his warm breath on his shoulder, seeping through the thin material of cotton because of how close they're sitting.

"What happened to it?"

"A revolution happened." Louis snorts out, "People were tired of the government and the government were stubborn bastards about it."

"Are you Ukrainian?"

Louis laughs, "No...but I lived here for five years, from age 15 to age 20."

Harry nods at Louis' information and for the first time he actually looks at Louis while he's talking, he realises that Louis' bright blue eyes are the only thing prominent in the dim and dark night. He's not really one to talk deep to strangers, but this isn't exactly a normal situation.

"How does it look now?" Harry questions serenely.

"I haven't been here since the revolution started." Louis whispers "but my old friends have sent me pictures, everything is ashy and burnt."

And just as if on que, the driver barks something at them along the lines of "We're here!".

As soon as Harry pulls the window down he can smell the strong scent of smoke, and looks outside to see a war-torn and broken country, rubble littering the streets and blood-shadows there like a permanent scar.