Apocalypse | L.S [Completed]

VII

The gratuitous chatter of John Clarke, one of Tomlinson Enterprises' future investor, rings through Louis' conventionally silent room. The lean, older man is currently gloating about how he had built his company from mere 'crumbles' with his 'hardship' and 'blood' but Louis— always doing a background check on people he associates with— knows better that the bloke had only riled his father until he handed over the company to him.

With another refill from Louis' Macallan Collection, the cream skinned man continues about the time he had shared the table with some prince of the Middle East. His cheeks flush with the alcoholic intrusion in his body, grey eyes glassy and Louis resists the urge to choke the man with the very whiskey bottle every time he cracks a hideous laugh, accompanied by a clap of his awfully clammy hands.

But, Louis, having mastered the art of masking himself over the many years, just continues to listen politely and speak up every once in a while, to not seem impolite. He tries to make out what Clarke is saying with quite difficultly due to his drunken slur. Louis can already feel that headache that is going to come down after this.

There's a firm knock, unnoticed by the blabbering man, and Louis immediately knows it's Harry. "Come in." Louis says startling a rambling Clarke. With his bouncing chocolate curls and shining emerald eyes, Harry offers the two men a dimpled smile. "Mr. Tomlinson, you have to be present at the board's meeting in ten minutes," Harry reminds, indirectly asking Clarke to fuck off. With kindness.

Louis hasn't been more grateful for the kid's presence than now. He nods in response and shifts his eyes to Clarke who is shamelessly eyeing Harry with rapacious eyes, making the younger shift nervously but with a polite smile on his face stamped still. Louis feels himself go and feels the horrors of his anger fill in, his eyes darkening and his muscles stiffening. He tries to breathe the feeling out, but the more Clarke stares, the more Louis' inner rogue rose. Harry, though, seems to notice the change in his boss's stance and decides to guide Clarke out before anything professionally unauthentic happens.

Clarke, in the haze of alcohol and lust, pulls Harry by the waist and turns around, flashing a crooked smile to a murderous looking Louis. "I think I can wait while you finish your meeting, Mr. Tomlinson. I'm sure your assistant will keep me company." Harry stiffens as the words leave Clarke's mouth, voice sultry dripping. Harry looks at Louis with beseeching emeralds, praying to the gods Louis doesn't leave him alone with this hypersexual lizard. But Louis is already dismantling Clarke's body mentally, his face contoured in utter disgust and anger, with fists clenched and blunt nails penetrating his skin.

"I apologise, Mr. Clarke, but Mr. Styles and I have to head to the board's meeting together. I think we should reschedule again sometime in the future at your office. Have a good day, it was a pleasure." Louis walks up and informs Clarke while he detangles a puppy eyed Harry from his grasp and pulls him towards himself. He then guides the alcohol reeking body out and bids him farewell with a firm shake of hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson." he hears Harry say as soon as he enters the room. The younger cracks a smile but not as bright, he looks dismayed to say the least but still manages to pull his gleeful face that could outshine the sun. "No need to thank me, Mr. Styles, I did what was necessary. Next time though, stand up for yourself," Louis says sternly, no traces of emotions coming out of his mouth. "I-I, didn't know if it was my place to speak. H-He is a potential partner after all." Harry reasons, fumbling with the end of his magenta blazer, feeling Louis' gaze practically cut through him.

"Was."

Louis says after a moment and Harry looks at him puzzled. "I will not partner with such an unprofessional client, Mr. Styles and next time, stand up for what's wrong. I will not fire you for defending yourself. You will have to defend yourself in this world because no one else will do it for you." "But you did." Harry mumbles. "Should I call him back then?" Louis asks with a veiled humour behind his straight tone. Harry stares wide eyed and vigorously shakes his head like a toddler being offered vegetables. Man child.