"Can you shut the fuck up !!, English , do you speak English?" Harry groaned sliding his large hand down his face in frustration because of the small blue eyed boy in front of him .
"je veux aller a la maison" Louis sobbed brokenly , shoulders shak...
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To conjure up your own demons For your own destruction is not madness It's pity and for you sir I have no pity absolutely no pity for a murderer , and for that reason I hope those fucking demons eat you alive .
Harry staggered to the liquor stand , his head felt dizzy from laughter as the small boy danced around the library room - it was something to have witness instead of complete darkness that has swept these rooms and halls for what seems as if a lifetime .
There were very few times that he heard the voices in his head , few times where the innocent he had killed have appeared in his mirror or beside him in bed with blood like eyes and promising that he is next - they whisper despicable things as he tries to sleep and more than once he has found himself staying awake waiting for that one to appear .
He waits for Ryan in the nearest chair opposite of his door , waits for blue corpse hands to open that damn wooden door and slip into the silent room . He waits with a gun in his hand for then when he meets such ghost he will not have the strength to look into those black eyes that were once blue , that he can not stomach .
Pictures the tall French man leaning towards the shell of his ear and whispering end all , dead hand gripping warm shoulders and then all those , all those fucking victims will surround him when his guard is down and drag him away .
Louis doesn't notice the smell of death that follows him nor does he note the many doors opening and closing during the midnight hours - no he simply cuddles deeper into his covers and dreams of a life far different than his , he screamed innocence and purity though there was something else he couldn't quite title .
" do you ever wonder what life is like in new York ?" Louis stops dancing gracefully and stares at green drunk eyes , it's a childlike question- a question only a child who has not been to new York can muster up and that's when the whole image disappears.
There's a barefoot boy in his library. A young boy with a dress clinging his frame and cheeks blown a bright pink from recent activities more important the reminder is this is not Ryan .
His warmth was not Ryan . His laugh was not Ryan's .
The way he speaks French didn't compare to Ryan and those blue eyes didn't sparkle as close as Ryan's .
He is a child . A child who lost his father .
A child that lost .. lost his father.
Harry licks at his bottom lip . Taste of rum coated them like one does after eating an candy apple , he leaned forward some "c-can I kiss you ?"
Many men have done it before . Placed their lips onto ones of another that reminded them of a faint lover , many men have laid in bed with said person but Harry just wanted a simple kiss ..just a kiss .
Louis nodded slowly. He wasn't nervous like virgins were of course not this is the boy from an apple farmer family , a boy who allowed man to touch underneath his gown and the same boy who moaned at night wanting-praying for someone to hear .
"What have man done to you -" Harry raises an eyebrow " in your language tell me what they have done ." He closed his eyes tightly picturing a different person as Louis spoke .
"Je leur permets de me toucher, de se faufiler dans ma chambre et de faire ce qu'ils veulent. Je ne suis pas un objet fragile quand il s'agit d'aimer des hommes plus âgés " It's new , all the words coming out of Louis mouth was new for even him never has he once admitted what he allowed those men to do and now that he said it out loud in his language, in his tongue it scared the hell out of him .
He slowly began to speak again before the feeling of bruising lips was on his , such force making both of them stumble back to the bookshelves .
When one kisses with insanity , the other kisses with meaning but how can one decipher which was which , how can one place lust and madness together and as Harry' callous hand moved up Louis dress the small boy gasped in surprise.
This was what grief created correct? Anyone in this state of mind only had very few options die from grief , kill from grief or mask grief with someone who came from that pain .
Small hands tighten on biceps , head tilted to the side and mouth open in wonder .
"H-Harry ."
"Just shut the fuck up -"Harry nudged his nose against Louis neck as the boy fisted at the hairs at the nape of his neck "j-just don't speak ."
If silent . If sooo silent he could be Ryan , he was Ryan .
