Escapade - Larry Stylinson (Re-write)

X - Loose Thread

Hello!!

Thank you for all of the comments you've been leaving! I'm really happy that you like the story, and I hope that you like this chapter!

**

 The clock ticked on Harry's bedroom wall. Again and again and again. Louis was going crazy while listening to it, but he couldn't sleep, no matter how much he wanted to. He'd been sitting bolt upright on the left side of the bed for hours, and each time that his eyes closed he shifted to keep them open. After the clock became truly unbearable, he found Harry's arm in the darkness and shook it. Harry groaned, shoving him away. He could see the man and his raspberry rose hair in the thin strip of light that slipped through the parting in the curtains. For a murderer, he was ever so warm and peaceful.

Louis hesitated, wondering if he should just let the man sleep, before hearing the ticking again. He shook the man's arm harder.

"M'what do you want?" Harry mumbled into the pillow, "Turn the landing light on, you can go pee."

"What? I don't want to go pee."

"Then go to sleep. There's not long before we have to get up again."

"I can't sleep. I don't want to get up early either."

"We need to get up early or your family will notice you aren't home. Goodnight."

"What happens to the people who fall asleep?"

Harry didn't reply for a moment, before turning to face Louis in the darkness. "What? What does that mean?"

"What happens to the people who fall asleep?" Louis asked again. "I won't sleep until you tell me."

Harry groaned and fumbled under the duvet. He found Louis' arm and gave it a hard tug, pulling Louis from a sitting position to one where both under the blanket, facing each other.

"You know too much." The murderer said. His voice was cold, deep, and sent chilling shivers right through Louis' body. "You're not in Wonderland. Things you hear and, that you understand and piece together, you have to keep for yourself. Now, go to sleep."

Louis pulled the duvet up to his nose and curled his legs up to his chest, "Then promise me that you won't kill me while I sleep. You have to promise. I really, really must see Lilly again."

Harry paused. Louis heard him sigh before a hand touched his cheek and cupped his face. He flinched, and Harry shushed him.

"See? You've put to many pieces together and now you're afraid of something that didn't scare you before." Harry said quietly. His thumb stroked Louis' cheek as he spoke, "I'm not a good man, Louis. But, if I had to choose between ending the life of every person on earth, or ending yours—you'd live forever. I'm a murderer, a thief, a criminal, and many other terrible things; but I'd never lay a finger on you."

***

What Harry had said that night was correct, and Louis had slept soundly in the old creaking bed. He'd been woken up gently before the break of dawn, been bathed and fed as he half-slept through it, and Harry had taken him down by foot to a nearby farm. An old lady who, each morning, rode in her milk van to London's City Centre, greeted them and agreed to let them join her. Louis had been given a pot of honey yogurt for the ride and was, as promised, home before anyone noticed he was missing.

Now, he sat alone at the kitchen table, playing on his brother's gameboy, with Lilly by his side. He could hear his brother come down the stairs with Zayn who'd apparently stayed the night as well, and both were grumbling to each other out of fatigue.