The Stockholm flat was absolutely silent. Not a single sound could be heard. It was almost as if the place was empty, but ironically there were two boys still living there. One filled with love and regret and the other with hate and misery.
Louis was locked up in his room. It was a luxurious room, almost as good as the one he has or himself back home in London. He should be happy, but how can he, when he's a prisoner for someone else. He's a hostage for a boy he likes, a boy he truly hurt. And he's never had a worse pain than the one taking up his heart.
He just sat in his room, almost still, mentally absent. His blue eyes had become pale from all the tears he had finished crying, his skin full of bruises of where his captor had hurt him. His mind was blank, just like everything else. He felt completely empty.
Harry didn't feel any better either. Lying in his room, under the covers with his head leaning on the wall shared between his and Louis' room. The sobbing he had heard minutes ago had quieted down to nothingness, and to some extent he was glad. He couldn't bear to hear Louis, the boy he still felt something special for cry, no matter how much he tried to. He wanted nothing more than to go to his love and accept the apology he was offering but his mind always stopped him, saying that he was just going to get hurt again.
He was devastated and disappointed at the wreck he had made of Louis, treating him like an animal he did. At the time it seemed right, his mind filled with consequences of Louis' misplacement and figuring out any way to stop those consequences. But now, he wanted nothing more than to hold Louis in his arms, pepper kisses on all the bruises, and just hold him until they both fall asleep just as he's dreamt of before.
He wants to love Louis, not hurt him. But his mind won't let him go without paying for the game he played, and to some extent his heart wants that too.
It felt odd, not worrying or caring about Louis for him, it felt like he had no other purpose, and truthfully he didn't. He uncovered himself and sat up right against the wall again. He didn't want to worry or care, he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. He knocked on the wall, just once, making it seem like an accident. He hoped that's what Louis would've taken it as, when he heard a ruffling behind the wall. "Harry" A gentle voice sounded, unmistakably the other boy's, like he had been waiting for it.
When he received no response, he questioned again, "Harry? Did you need something?" He asked through the wall that separated them.
"No. It was accident okay? I don't need you" He responded quickly, too quickly to seem honest, while answering questions that hadn't even been asked. Louis could tell something was up, he knew that he wasn't forgiven. He would do anything to get Harry to accept his apology. But he could only do so much for him from inside the room.
"Harry, I'm really sorry. Believe me when I say I really am sorry" Louis uttered quietly, almost with his lips against the wall, as if it would make his voice louder and more convincing. He didn't hear a voice reply but still continued. "I'm sorry for playing you, and using you. I swear I really do care for you" He continued, feeling the tears well up in his eyes.
Louis would've continued, but he didn't hear anything back, not even a single breath, and it just made him think that maybe Harry wasn't even listening. The thought brought so much sorrow, that maybe Harry was completely gone out of his reach and he had no way to bring him back.
His ear was still pinned to the wall, and suddenly his face lit up, as soon as he heard what seemed to sound like footsteps. Maybe Harry was coming back and was ready to listen.
Louis was just about to start his apology again, when the door opened, without a knock. There stood Harry, tall and lanky, a tray of food, which seemed to be stale from this morning, in his hands. He wore a blank look, but that seemed to change into a scowl as soon as he saw the boy against the wall. He walked up to the crouching boy, and stood right at his feet, looking down at him.
The older boy offered a small, sympathetic smile, almost as a silent apology, but Harry didn't even seem to care. He dropped the plate of food, straight to the ground, parts of it falling to the floor from the impact of the fall. This shocked Louis who immediately became more alert. He could tell Harry as just about to leave, considering he didn't say anything and it was pretty obvious that after what happened he wouldn't stay, so he started ranting out his apology, hoping to get through the younger boy.
"Harry please! I'm sorry" He cried, while looking up to Harry. The captor turned, not wanting to hear false regret and not in the state to give forgiveness either. He started walking towards the door but Louis couldn't let him; it was the only chance to apologize he'd get for a while and he couldn't let it go so easily. He grabbed onto Harry's leg, practically begging at this point.
No one would've ever thought the richest man in England would be on his knees, begging for a poor boy off the streets.
"Harry, I truly am sorry. Just listen to me. I can explain" Louis pleaded, but Harry kept walking, trying to ignore the weight attached to his leg, even though it did slow him down a bit. "I'm sorry for leaving. I'm sorry for using you. I truly do care, honestly" He begged, but by now Harry was trying to shake him off, wanting to leave and not hear anymore of his lies.
He flung his leg, almost too hard, making Louis let go immediately, even though he wasn't about to. Flying, Louis landed a couple feet away from the door, falling on his back, his head hitting the wooden floor and he was sure there would be some blood. A scream erupted from inside his throat as the pain finally caught up with what had happened.
It felt torturous and painful and unbearable. He expected Harry to come back and help, knowing he couldn't be that mean, but he was seriously let down. Harry stood there, disgust on his face, eyeing the boy on the floor. Not an ounce of regret visible anywhere on him.
He approached Louis, slowly taking only a few strides till he stood at his feet. Bending down he pulled Louis up by the collar of his shirt, abruptly; Louis' head hurting from the whiplash that had caused. His head was pounding, a wetness that was undoubtedly blood, dripping down the back of his head, his eyes teary, his limbs weak but he ignored all that, and went straight back to apologizing.
"Please! Listen to me! I'm sorry, Harry. I really am. I really do like you and it was wrong of me to use you and I'm sorry. I really do want to be with you. Please believe me" He uttered through his tears that were once again free-falling.
To Harry, this was all fake, it was meaningless. He wanted to believe it, he honestly did. But the voice in his head kept telling him that he couldn't afford to get hurt again. It would mean misery for him if fell into this trap again. And he couldn't let himself knowingly walk straight into it, although secretly there was probably nothing he wanted more.
Louis was still ranting, but at this point the curly-haired boy had stopped listening. All he could think was, how does this man have the nerve and the guts to keep lying like this? Does he really have nothing else that he has to resort to begging? It was too good to be true, and that's exactly why it was so unbelievable. That's why Harry knew it wasn't real. And he was done with this bullshit.
"Shut up! Don't you dare lie to me like this!" Harry snapped, cutting off part of Louis' apology. Harry was done with this, he couldn't stand it anymore and he would do anything to not hear those words come from Louis' mouth.
But the blue-eyed boy had no plans of stopping without getting his point across. He kept ranting, trying to justify himself, and unknowingly pissing Harry off. He kept going despite him being told to shut up over and over.
He didn't stop, until he was banged into the wall he stood against. And not only once but several times, rammed into the wall, as an attempt from Harry to stop the words that were piercing his brain.
He could feel larger amounts of blood drip down his head, his back getting cut and bruised no doubt leaving a few open wounds as well. He was in shock, of what Harry was capable of.
And so was Harry, himself. He practically abused his captive to no extent. It was a strength he didn't know he had, and hoped it would never show up again. His green eyes scanned over Louis' trembling beaten body beneath him; the body being held up by his hands, slightly off the floor.
Guilt rushed through his veins at the sight that was in front of him, the sight that he had made. So full of adrenaline and rage, he hadn't even noticed that he abused the boy he cared too much for. He could've been killed, judging from what was Harry had been doing to him, and it would've been the captor's fault.
Harry was supposed to keep the hostage, spotless, perfectly healthy and safe. But the boy in his space at the moment wasn't that at all. He was beaten, bruised, cut, mistreated, and it was all Harry's fault.
His green-eyes lowered not being able to stare at the wreck he had caused, being too ashamed to. He couldn't face Louis after what he had done to him. Of course what Louis did was cruel and evil but what Harry did was no better.
He couldn't even stand in Louis' personal space, he felt too hated and terrible. In a sudden, Louis was droped to the ground, Harry's hands falling back to their place at his sides. And as fast as he could, he escaped the room.
He ran next door to his own room, plunging himself into the covers. And as soon as he was bundled up, the tears started rushing.
There was so much emotion in those tears, guilt, hate, shame, hurt, anger, and one more tiny, little, secret ingredient. A hint of love.