Leave Me

XV

Hello, all. Happy #LeaveMeFriday! This one is going to make you cringe and wince. The fluff is over, bring on the pain. Enjoy, xo.

**WARNINGS for this one! Dub-con for sure for sure, so I'll sum up at the bottom for you self-respecting people. If you want to skip, stop reading at the double-spaced paragraph.**

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Louis woke up overheated and sore. It was possibly his absolute favorite position to be in. He cracked one eye open and instantly recognize the sleek plane of the chest he was nuzzled against. He could feel the long lines of another against his back and smiled. He hadn't felt so loved in what seemed like forever.

These two were pure-hearted, good souls and Louis felt filthy lying between them, soiling their bed with lies and betrayal. He'd needed them, just one last time, if he was going to go through with what he knew he needed to do.

And what a last time it had been.

Louis was adept at slipping from between his two lovers from countless bathroom breaks in the night and the need for cool air on his heated skin. Tonight, though, he didn't just need to sit at the end of the bed and breathe, or hop to the en suite before climbing back between them. Tonight, he was leaving and not coming back.

Neither of them stirred much, except for one small reach of Harry's hand when Louis removed himself that almost had him changing his mind, but he steeled himself and reached for his clothes. The slave didn't even contemplate showering or cleaning up. If something were to happen, he wanted to die remembering what they did in that bed.

Once he was sure neither of them would wake up, Louis left their room, snicking the door shut behind him. He made it halfway across the suite's main room, had just grabbed Zayn's car keys, when a voice jolted him from his mission.

"I trusted you."

The slave froze, keys halfways to his pocket, and turned towards Zayn's voice in the dark. Somehow, it felt right that he should have to face Zayn again one last time. "I know," he acquiesced.

There was shuffling but no light to see what was happening, just the chalky reflection of the moon on the edges of the furniture. "I would've done anything for you." His voice was closer now and Louis shivered at the proximity.

"I know. That's why I had to go."

There was only silence, except for the quiet shuffling of feet on carpet. Louis could just barely make out Zayn's form as his eyes adjusted, but he couldn't tell what he was doing. "When you left, I thought my life was over."

It hurt, but it wasn't anything he didn't already know. He was well aware of the pain he'd caused Zayn, wished he could erase, but he couldn't. "We wouldn't have been happy," Louis admitted.

"I was happy," Zayn murmured, moving closer in the dim shadows of night. "I thought we were happy," he scoffed, "but I had no idea."

Louis raked a hand through his messy hair, chin falling to his chest with the weight of his mistakes. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Zayn asked, and he was right there, close enough to make Louis jump, and Louis immediately smelled alcohol on his breath. When the slave looked up, Zayn's dark eyes were menacing.

"Yes," he whispered, broken and scared of himself, of Zayn, of Marcus. "I'm sorry."

"What are you going to do about it?" Zayn questioned, and now that Louis knew, he could clearly hear the slur in his words.

Louis blinked, unsure. "What do you mean?"

Zayn slid a hand down Louis's arm- not an unfamiliar gesture between them, but foreign all the same- until he reached the hand with Zayn's keys. He didn't take them, just let Louis know he knew where they were. "What do you plan to do about what you've done?"