*dedicated to hsltlovee :) *
♡ chapter 17 - Harry ♡
"Where the fuck is he?"
I hadn't intended for those to be the first words leaving my lips, but seeing Louis so torn pissed me off to the fullest. Seething would be an understatement to describe my utter anger coursing my veins at the moment, my nails leaving indentions in my palms from squeezing my fists so tight. I wasn't sure how to describe this irate ordeal, but it was making my entire body tremble the more I thought about Marcus laying a single hand on him. If he was going to die before, he's going to be six feet under now.
His bottom lip was split down the middle, a bruise lining his jaw with a slight purple-ish tint to portray it was just created. Stray twigs sprouted from his hair, looking as if he had escaped and ran through the woods like a wild man trying to reach safety. Various cuts slashed across both arms and legs, only conjuring a bloodier mess than when he first tumbled through the door.
Finally gathering the little senses I contained with all this aggression, I walked over to him. For a moment I hesitated on touching him, until I remembered he stupidly took off his bracelet just to make out with me. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it, but it's the whole reason he got snatched from me in the first place. I'd rather stick with the pain of never holding him instead of the pain of him never being with me at all.
"Are you all right, Louis? What happened?" I asked as I gently grabbed his upper arm, helping him to his feet. My eyes darted to the boys dumbly standing around, wide-eyed and clueless. "Don't just fucking stand there, get him some water or something," I snapped angrily, and they each scurried off to do a random task.
Louis leaned into me as we hobbled to the couch, his touch oddly numb instead of the fiery feeling I had felt when he first made physical contact with me. But I tried not to relish on that pointless thought at the moment, especially since my beauty was half dead in my arms.
"What happened?" I asked him again, much softer this time as he sat on the couch, slumping back against the arm.
His eyes closed, his breaths still coming out in ragged pants as he held one hand to his chest, the other to his forehead. "H-he got me," he breathed out hoarsely, his voice sounding increasingly scratchy and high.
My eyebrows pinched together. "I understand that, Louis. But what the hell did he do to make you look like.. this?"
Louis didn't reply.
My shaking hands from my enraged state heaved in frustration through my hair, my heart pounding fiercely against my ribcage, my imagination getting the best of me as I pictured all the sickening things he could've done to him. Beating him would be one thing, but taking advantage of him would be an extreme scenario I don't want to think about or else I'll go ape shit on this entire household.
Jessie came back into the room, a wet rag and cup of water in his hands. "Here you go, Louis. Drink it slow."
Louis weakly sat up, his dried bloody lips taking small sips as he let out a relieved sigh, placing the rag on his forehead. I watched him carefully, my eyebrows pulled together as I tried to depict why he was hardly speaking. Perhaps it's just the shock of everything that had occurred to him, or maybe he truly is just flat out exhausted. But to see him so silent was strange, not to mention worrying me even more. It's highly unlike him to shut that beautiful mouth.
Jessie looked to me, his brows raised expectantly as if he were waiting for me to prompt him. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, standing to my feet as I motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen. He did so, almost hesitantly, but he followed me nonetheless into the confined area Louis couldn't eavesdrop.
"What's going on?" he asked as he leaned against the counter.
I placed my hands on my hips, my tongue swiping over my lips as I looked up at him. "I'm not quite sure yet."
Jessie rose an eyebrow.
Sighing, I raked my fingers through my hair. "He's acting weird, Jessie. I don't know if he's still just shocked, or if Marcus did something to him or... I just don't know, but he's not acting like himself ."
Jessie pursed his lips, folding his arms across his chest. "Harry, I think you're just being paranoid. I mean, he just came through the door a bloody mess. You gotta cut him a little slack for not speaking, right? My bet is he's still a bit shaken up, that's all."
Considering if I told Jessie it was different when he touched me would sound extremely weird, all I could do was nod. I had to believe that Louis was still Louis , and Marcus was still Marcus. He probably brainwashed him , or even forced him to say certain things just to confuse us or get inside of our minds. I had to remember that he was the evil in this world, and it was about time I started trying to be the good.
Not sure how well it'll work out, but a boy can dream, right?
"I guess you're right," I muttered under my breath, not believing I was actually telling Jessie he was right about something.
Jessie's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "I'm sorry, Harry. What was that? I couldn't quite hear you over how right I am."
I rolled my eyes. "Shut the fuck up, brown eyes."
Jessie laughed, following me out of the kitchen and back into the living room. Louis was sitting up on the couch now, his hands clasped in his lap as he glanced around at everything. He almost looked as if he'd never seen this place before, his bright blue eyes filled with utter curiosity as he scanned the place. He looked to us as he heard us enter, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment before he looked away, fiddling with his fingers.
I frowned. "Are you feeling any better?"
Louis shrugged.
Biting my lip in frustration, I noticed everyone was gathered in this room again. Whether Louis was the same or not, I needed to know an answer to a question that sounds so pathetic, but has been bugging me ever since it happened. Not to mention he really needed to change his clothes.
"Come on, Louis. Let's get you some fresh clothes," I told him and he slowly nodded, standing to his feet and following me like a lost puppy. The boys began to whisper, and I was sure they thought his behavior was eerie just as I did.
I couldn't help but to also take note in how nervous he seemed to be. His eyes kept darting over to me at the slightest movement I made, almost as if he were scared I was going to do something to him. He surely should know by now that I'd never lay a single violent hand on him. But he kept giving me wide eyes, trying to avoid eye contact as he kept a generous distance. That only multiplied my worry.
"Here," I said softly, trying not to scare him any more than he looked to be, "You can change into this."
Louis sheepishly nodded, keeping his eyes averted from mine as he looked around for the bathroom. My eyebrows pulled together at how utterly lost he looked, my defenses rising as I stepped closer to him, but he took a step away from me, his back colliding with the wall.
"Louis, what is wrong with you?" I asked quietly. "Why are you looking at me like I'm some sort of monster?"
It hurt, honestly, knowing that the boy I love (God, it still sounds fucking pathetic) was now petrified of me only after hours of being gone. Had Marcus really messed with his mind that much? Did he tell him a shitload of negative things about me? Was he lying to him?
"I-I'm not," he murmured, running a hand through his hair frantically, "c-can you please tell me where the bathroom is?"
Frowning, I jabbed my finger in the direction opposite of us, and Louis silently nodded before quickly scurrying away from me.
Plopping down onto the side of the bed to wait for him, my mind swirled around the many different possibilities that could be true. Either Marcus really did toy with his mind into conjuring up some implausible thought of me being dangerous to him, or he's still shaken up about the whole ordeal in general. I just can't find it believable that Louis is scared of me after all we've been through, all I've saved him from. Does my jackass attitude make him think differently of me? Surely not, or else he would've never kissed me in the first place.
Fuck, you're so pathetic, Harry.
Louis came out moments later, a t-shirt adorning his curves and some pajama pants hanging from his hips. His hair was pushed over to one side effortlessly , his thumbs still fuddling with each other as if he had no idea of what else to do with himself. I tried to give him an assuring smile, but it must've came out more of a bewildered glance because he instantly looked away from me.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Louis ," I finally told him in a quiet tone, rubbing my face vigorously as he cautiously sat on the opposite side of the bed. "I'd never hurt you, and you should know that."
Louis didn't say anything.
I turned to face him, my emeralds scanning his blue eyes incredulously, trying to find an answer in that beautiful head of his. He had washed the blood off of his face and arms while he was in the bathroom, much to my great relief because I couldn't stand seeing him like that. But now I couldn't stand seeing him period, simply because of the terrified look etched across his features.
"Do you remember what I told you before you took off your bracelet?" I asked quietly, still feeling pathetic but needing an answer nonetheless.
Louis looked to his lap, nodding slowly.
"What did I say?"
Louis was quiet.
"Louis." My tone was sharp, the type of voice I used to the Council every time they tried to intimidate me. Of course I would always win that fight of intimidation, but Louis flinched with my harsh tone, making my heart clench.
"That... that you love me," he said quietly, but sounded very unsure of himself as he continued to avoid eye contact.
"Do you love me, Louis?"
The fact that I knew that small question made me extremely vulnerable only made this situation one hundred times worse. But I needed to know his answer, because it's been killing me ever since that heavenly kiss we shared in the backyard. The passion that I had felt between us was greater than any other emotion I had ever felt, but he hadn't said if he loved me back or not. And perhaps he doesn't, but I need to know this for closure. Of course I'm praying he does, or even just a sliver of feelings he may have for me would be nice, but I need to hear it from him.
"Louis, please answer me."
My eyes scanned his face frantically, trying to depict what he was thinking, but I got nothing. That was also abnormal, considering I used to always be able to detect his fear, his admiration, or his hatred. There had been times when he would smile at me, and that would be all the assurance I needed that he didn't fully hate me. But then there were times when he would shout, the creases on his forehead quite evident when he found out I had first been using him. For a good cause, might I add, but now that cause doesn't even seem relevant anymore.
All I want—all I need —is Louis .
Louis looked up to meet my gaze for a minimal time since he got back, his blue eyes flooded with confusion and fear as he stared back at me. A small pang of hope had been jammed into my heart, the hope that maybe he would love me back and we could be together for a short time period before the Council came looking for us. That's when I would demand for Louis to leave, to find coverage so he wouldn't be found with me. I wouldn't be able to risk his life like that just so we could be together.
Somehow, his answer had been already imprinted in my mind as I should've seen it coming. All it took were those five words; five words to tear me apart like no other sentence had ever done before. Five stupid, idiotic words that seemed to break me into tiny pieces on the floor.
And I hated myself for ever thinking differently.
"No," he finally whispered, his eyes falling back to his lap. "I don't love you."