Two years prior in Middleston
"Hey, Deputy." Harry greets the older gentleman with a proper grin.
"Hey, Haz. How ya doin'?" The Deputy smiles back - with less voltage.
"Mom said to bring you this." He sets down the sealed lunch box with Spiderman on the face. It
was Gemma's and Harry had thieving taken it without asking.
"Thanks, kiddo." He pats his shoulder when he stands. Harry was just eighteen but managed to
outgrow most men in Middleston by last year.
"Hey, Harry." The Sheriff walks in with a polite smile.
"Sheriff Tomlinson." Harry nods cordially before smiling.
"How's your mom doing?" She drops a file on the Deputy's desk before speaking to Harry.
"Fine. Dad's coming home today so she's baking and cooking."
"Are you helping her?" She raises an eyebrow at him.
He chuckles. "I don't bake, Sheriff. Gemma is helping my mom."
"Clever rascal. Do me a favor and give this to my son on your way out." She hands him a purple
folder.
"Sure thing. Bye, Sheriff. Deputy." He bade them adieu before walking out of the office and into
the hubbub of the police station.
Harry searched the room for his target, spotting him seated at the entrance of the building. He
makes his way over to him trying to decide what to say first.
"Hey." He opens his mouth and a single word comes out.
He makes one of those yeah-please-go-away faces before looking back at his phone. Harry didn't
know his name, but he wouldn't be rude because his mother brought him up better than that.
The boy had brown hair, dark and on the verge of a black shade of hue. From a quick glance
Harry saw that his eyes were blue, but not the regular blue that was ordinarily classified. This blue
was fascinating. His left knee bounced up and down in impatience on the cold plastic seat. Harry
noticed the small things about people, and people found him strange because of that.
"Your mom uh- the Sheriff told me to give this to you." Harry extends his hand and holds out the
folder.
"Thanks." He takes it from him and stands. Without a smile or second glance the boy exits the
building.
"You're welcome." Harry huffs to himself before taking the same route to the outside world.
"Mom! I'm home!" Harry announces tossing his keys into the ceramic bowl assigned to the
collection and enclosing of keys.
"In here, honey." She says back to him.
Harry follows her voice into the kitchen, to find the two women he'd known since birth flitting
around animatedly in their kitchen. Gemma and Mom both had on aprons, pink frilly ones that
their dad had gotten them ages ago and hibernated in the closet upstairs. Gemma's hair was tan,
and Harry would always tease her about her hair getting darker than her skin ever could.
He goes to the sink and washes his hands, careful not to dirty the dishes on the counter that are
already rinsed.
"Hey, Gem." Harry stands beside his sister, dipping his long finger into the batter she was
whisking inevitably upsetting the process.
"Ugh, Harry!" She bumps him with her arm. "Your hands were wet, genius."
"Harry, don't trouble your sister." His mother warns.
"Sorry." He bends to peck his sister's cheek. "Good batter though."
Gemma makes a disgusted sound and Harry goes to his mom, kissing her cheek as well.
"Did you give the Deputy his pie?" She inquires wiping her hand on her apron.
"Yup. Spoke to the Sheriff also." He responds stealing a chocolate chip from the bowl.
"Oh why didn't you say? I didn't give you anything for her."
"It's fine. We can do it tomorrow."
"Or you could drive back." Gemma offers.
"Petrol does not fall from the sky, Gem." Harry pokes back. "I'll go tomorrow when I get the
pizza."
"What pizza?"
"The one we will order."
"Oh yeah, because Mom's cooking intelligence does under lock and key tomorrow."
Their mother rolls her eyes. "Keep it up and see who'll feed you tonight."
They both laugh at her, showing the innocent humor behind their joke.
"What's her son's name?" Harry asks outright before he can stop himself. He decides to play it
nonchalant so they don't start picking on him.
"Um......Louis. Yes, Louis." His mom remembers after a moment of thought. "Nice boy. Really
involved in school."
"Didn't he graduate?" Gemma asks. Harry pays great attention without looking as if he is.
"Yeah but he tutors sometimes. Loves learning, like you Harry."
Harry's head snaps up from following the delicate design on the tissue from the rack. He shrugs
not knowing how else to respond.
"Oh gosh! Look at the time!" Their mother spooks them with a booming announcement.
"Gemma, whisk faster."
Harry excuses himself so as not to get in the way of that hurricane, and runs upstairs to his room
before discarding his shoes to walk around in socks.
"Hungry?" He speaks to his pet, Hamster. The poor rodent struggles to keep up on that plastic
wheel.
"Me too." He says to the creature as he fills the requirement in the cage. "But I'm barred from the
kitchen."
Hamster runs on, and Harry slumps in his chair at his desk. He had no school work, and he
somehow missed the business of that schedule. Now he had so many gaps of boredom.
Louis. That was his name.
Present day
*LOUIS POV*
I feel cold. Goosebumps have started their rising process on my arms and when I try to reach out
and rub some warmth back into my skin, I can't. I'm restrained. What the fuck?!
My eyes spring open to full concentration, and my head hurts from the rapid deed of trying to sit
up. My wrists are bound to the posts of the bed I'm lying on. Where'd the bed come from? I panic
inside my cool exterior, my eyes wide and frantic as I search for something. Anything.
My legs aren't tied up, which isn't much of a plus considering I'm not an ape that can use my
opposable toes to untie me. I tug on the shackle devices with all of my strength but whomever it
was that tied those knots is an ace at it.
"Lou?" Harry's voice makes it into my hearing range.
"Harry?" I call back. "Harry, I'm tied up!"
He comes into view from the shadows and looks down at me like he doesn't see my constricted
condition. He's taken off his trench coat and still wears everything underneath.
"I know, Lou. I didn't......I didn't want to do this while you were asleep." He says, sighing in a
form of resignation.
"You mean unconscious?" I spit. I realise what's happening here........and damn I'm not prepared.
Fuck prepared, I hate that this is even happening.
He frowns. "That wasn't my doing. I promise."
"Then what is? Did you tie me up?" I pull on the restraints again and he remains composed.
"I had to." He shrugs. "It'll be faster that way."
I never experienced fear like this, it's a suffocating emotion that cloaks all possibility of hope. I am
panic-stricken and void of reason when I don't even try to scream. No one would hear. No one
would care.
My breath is caught in my lungs, painfully losing value as I suppress the urge to tear up. It's not
working. Harry lifts his leg to climb onto the bed and I screw my eyes shut, turning my head in the
other direction and my chest heaves from the added pressure.
"Shhh." He whispers as I feel the bed sink under his weight. "It won't hurt."
"Harry. Please don't." I try pleading to see if it works. Bucking my hips to get him off me after
he's settled astride me is impossible. He is too heavy and I'm still faintly weak from exhaustion.
"It's okay." He cooes.
I won't look at him, I won't open my eyes. Period. With my head turned away from him, it seems
to ignite some irritation in him. He tries to tilt my chin up with his index finger but I hold firm and
he sighs.
I gasp when I feel breath skate across my jaw, in a warm wave that smells of mint now. Pulling on
my binds are again wasted efforts. I feel something a little rough against my jaw. His lips. I cringe,
squirming uncomfortably beneath him.
"I've been wanting to do this for a very long time." His voice is husky and low. A chilling voice
with creepy undertones.
"Harry." I try to think of something to say. A distraction. "What have I done to you?"
"Nothing." He moves his lips from my jaw to my throat.
"Then why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I don't want anyone else."