Stockholm Syndrome (Larry Stylinson) (Rewrite)

Letters

Update time, loves!

I hope everyone is doing wonderfully and staying safe. You all deserve nothing but happiness and fuck anyone who tries to bring you down! ✋

WARNING: minor violence in this chapter and mentions of numbing feelings. Read carefully, lovelies ❤

Hope you enjoy seeing the slight shift in relationships here. :)

Chapter 7:

   I didn't know how much time had passed, and I also didn't really know if I had fallen asleep. I felt myself drift in and out of consciousness often, but I never had dreams nor nightmares. I also didn't particularly feel rested by any means.

   My whole body ached at the uncomfortable bed I had to sleep upon, and I opted for the floor after tossing and turning for quite some time. I kept thinking about how I failed at my second chance of escape. Maybe if I would have ran, Louis would have never caught me.

  There was something different in his eyes when he brought me back to this room. They were full of something akin to deep sorrow before they flashed back to that icy cold blue. And when he spoke about seeing a person die being satisfying at times, I could tell he meant it. It sent a chill running up my spine, making me shiver. I knew he was more than capable of murder.

   The lock on the door clicked opened, and I quickly sat up, preparing myself for whoever was on the other side. I tensed up as Zayn stepped into the room, hands in his jean pockets as he shut the door and leaned against it.

  "What did you say to Liam?" He asked, voice nearly biting as he spoke through gritted teeth.

  "What?" I blurted out. It was almost as if I wasn't the victim here, and that made no sense whatsoever. Last I checked, I was the one being held against my will.

  "Liam. What did you say to him last night?" Zayn repeated, annoyance creeping into his tone as he pushed off from the door and began walking toward me.

  "Nothing," I defended, standing upright and trying to put distance between us, but Zayn was advancing as I was trapped in the corner of the room.

  "You said something to him. He looked like someone kicked him while he was down last night, and he wouldn't tell me what was wrong, so what the fuck did you do?" He growled out.

  I knew Zayn was protective of Liam. Every single time someone became aggressive with him, and he shut down, Zayn was always there chatting quietly to him. I didn't quite understand their dynamic, and that was the problem with it.

  "I didn't say anything to him," I lied. What was I supposed to say? I pressured him into trying to help me escape? Sure. That would play out nicely. I had a feeling Zayn wasn't as forgiving or as easily manipulated as Liam.

  "I don't believe you. Louis asked Liam and I which of us tried to help you escape. He was livid. Now, what the fuck did you tell him?"

  "I don't care if you don't believe me!" I shouted back instead, and I flinched as Zayn's hand rose in the air to strike at me. But he stopped as the door was pushed opened and a voice filled the room.

  "Might want to watch yourself, Zayn," I recognized Louis' voice and felt the same shiver run down my spine. "If Vince sees a bruise on him, he'll wonder who went against his orders."

  "He said something to Liam," Zayn gritted out.

  "And Liam's a grown man, isn't he? He can handle it. Or are you saying that he's weak? That he'd be willing to help Harry, here, escape so easily because his feelings were hurt? Are you saying that Liam is the one who helped him?" Louis posed. His tone was calm, but it was laced with threats. It was unlike anything I've ever heard before.