The Sculpture and The Sculptured (l.s)

eleven

Victoria's neighing and whining wakes Harry up. His eyes squint as bright light shines down on him, and he lifts his head to see the scene of last night exposed in the sun light. His heart begins to race slightly, and he looks down to see Louis still asleep on his chest.

"Good grief." Harry grumbles, and shakes his lover slightly as anxiety sets in his bones. "Louis, you've got to wake up. Wake up, now. It must be past morning."

Louis rubs his eyes, and looks around before standing. "We'll be alright."

"What—? Louis," Harry dusts himself off as Louis unties and pets Victoria to calm the horse, "are you mad? This will never get by the horse master!"

"Don't worry." Louis gets on top of the horse, and holds his hand out for Harry. "The stable cleaner comes first. The horse master doesn't come unless the horses are sick or need training."

Harry grumbles curses as he gets on. "Mr. Tomlinson's pride and joy is missing from her stable, I think that's cause for the cleaner to get the—"

Harry shouts as Victoria takes off in a sprint, and he grips Louis' torso for balance. The muse laughs freely. "Victoria won't be missing for long!"

Victoria manages to cut the hour ride in half, but it saves them little to no secrecy as the cleaner is just approaching the stables to clean. Louis hops down, and carelessly yanks Harry off.

"Ouch, Louis!" He whispers, and Louis puts a hand over his mouth.

"Take her saddle off, and bring her to the stall. Hers is unlocked so don't worry about unlocking it. The lock is on the floor, just put her in safely. I'll distract the guy." Before Harry can say anything, the older male rushes off. The sculptor has no choice but to listen, and quickly unfastens the horse's saddle. He hangs it with the rest, leads her into the stables through the back, and locks her into her stall. She bobs her head, and he pets her lovingly.

"Last night stays a secret between us, Victoria." He chuckles. "You're a lovely girl. Thank you."

Mr. Tomlinson arrived a day earlier than expected. Harry was finishing his last details on the outfit, completing the full miniature sculpture of his lover, when Elizabeth came rushing to his shed. He dips his hands in the bucket of water before wiping them clean on his apron, and meets the young lady outside.

"Mr. Styles," she attempts to catch her breath as Harry watches other maids and servants rush through their work, "Mr. Tomlinson has just arrived. Mr. Malik has requested your presence at the front gates."

"What brought him home so early?" Harry walks with her, minding the closeness she's attempting to create between them. He consciously leaves just enough space.

"Mrs. Tomlinson has had pains for a few days now. The doctors don't think she'll make it through this labor so she demanded that Mr. Tomlinson return home to see her personally." Elizabeth clasps her hands in front of her. "Mr. Tomlinson has never been present for any of his children's births. He takes a long leave around the due date every time. I'm concerned he came back this time. This must mean there is cause for worry."

"Possibly," Harry mumbles as they walk the cobblestone path to the front gates where Zayn and the house maid stood waiting, "but let's not get frantic just yet."

With that, their conversation ends and Harry greets Zayn and the staff just as the carriage makes a stop in front of them. Mr. Tomlinson steps down onto the cobblestone, nods and greets everyone as butlers rush to collect and move his suit cases inside. The man shakes Zayn's hand, smiling kindly.

"Mr. Malik," he calls and Zayn seems to shudder slightly at the sound, "I've missed your playing dearly these last two weeks. You must play immediately for me."

"Of course, Sir." The pianist nods, and forces a professional grin. "I have your favorite piece in mind, and the sheets are set up."

The maids give each other knowing looks, and Harry wonders what could possibly be so unsettling about their relationship. Before he can think further on it, however, Mr. Tomlinson loses his smile and replaces it with scrutinizing eyes as he turns to Harry.

"Good morning, Mr. Styles." He says distastefully. Harry bows with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Good morning, Mr. Tomlinson. It's a relief to see you've made it home safely." The man grunts at Harry's words, and walks by him without another word. Elizabeth gives Harry a sympathetic look, but he sighs quietly and follows Mr. Tomlinson towards the house.

Everything became a lot stricter when Mr. Tomlinson arrived. The kitchen didn't allow Harry to come by early for food, nor did Louis leave his room without permission from his father, and more guests were entering and leaving. Maids were on foot every night and day, Zayn was never alone and always called into Mr. Tomlinson's private study, and Mrs. Tomlinson stayed as silent as she ever did. The girls did not smile, play, laugh, or show fancies in anything. They were kept from any sort of educational book or lesson seen as masculine, and were geared towards wifely duties. There was, in short, no cheer.

Harry went a whole week watching Louis' window from his shed, quietly and diligently chipping away at the material that arrived shortly after Mr. Tomlinson, and spending his nights fighting sleep until the candle light in his lover's room was blown out. He went a whole week watching Zayn, a usually quiet yet calm gentleman turn almost paranoid and isolated. No maid ever gave Harry answers when he pried into the pianist's sudden change in behavior.

"It happens every time he, and Mr. Tomlinson are here together." Elizabeth tells him when he approaches her during her chores. She's putting dirty clothes from Zayn's room in the wash bin, and Harry grabs the sheet in her hand when he sees red and clear stains. Elizabeth quickly snatches it back, and puts it in the wash. "You must never speak or ask about it, Mr. Styles. Even when there is no doubt in your mind, never let it slip past your tongue."

"What does that mean?" Harry asks, and Elizabeth rolls her sleeves up to scrub.

"Save Mr. Malik his pride, Mr. Styles." Elizabeth looks at him quickly. "Even a man in his position needs his pride."