Revenge Is A Dish Best Served [Larry Stylinson]

Instalment Eight

LOUIS TOMLINSON

Oh, don't do that to me, Harry.

Watching you squirm like that beneath me. I cannot handle that right now.

"Why are you doing this, Louis?" You mumble out again, sorry love; was too busy imagining those glistening eyes being from another reason. A reason that involves you submitting yourself to me entirely.

"I haven't done anything to you, Harry. Not yet anyway" I tease. I can't help it. I really don't know what it is about me Harry; but you have to admit. It's quite intriguing isn't it?

"Are you, are you going to hurt me?" You sob.

You see, the issue I have here Harry, is I haven't decided. The better question is, do I WANT to hurt you. And the answer to that is definitely not. But sometimes, things happen, and the outcome doesn't necessarily turn out the way I wanted it to.

"Do I frighten you, Harry?"  I decide to ask my own questions instead, since the reason we are both here right now is because I need answers.

I crouch myself down to your level, but I notice your body tense and pull away from me.

That isn't playing nice.

"No"

Your answer, surprisingly, shocks me. You're holding your ground; keeping your pride.

Cute.

Raising the index finger of my right hand to align it with the loose single strange over your eyebrow, I shift it out of the way and let my eye line follow. Noticing just how much you're sweating even in this nice cool air. In your defence, you did just sprint away like a mad man from me.

Need to work on your cardio.

"Do you want me to be frightened of you?"

Good question.

"No" I reply with a coy smirk plastered across my face.

"What do you want with me?" Harry if you're going to tell me you aren't frightened, you may want to work on your sentence pronunciation.

"Well, you fascinate me"

You look confused. "Me?"

"Well from what I can see, Harry, you're the only up here" stating the obvious.

You don't look impressed by that comment. Learning how to push your buttons already. Perhaps you do not appreciate sarcasm.

"My issue is that usually I can read people; and I thought I had you figured out. But you seem to raise more questions than you answer on a daily basis, and it's becoming extremely irritating. And I need you to stop."

"I - I'm sorry" you give in too easily.

I need some air, ironic isn't it, up on a roof top absolutely surrounded by it, but in this moment with YOU, the air is thick, contaminated, you make me feel that way, like I'm suffocating but I enjoy the strain.

I take a moment, move myself away from you, gather my thoughts.

Pacing across the summit I take a look around; Night-time really is my favourite.

"Do you know what stars are, Harry?"

You don't answer me, but I take that as my cue to continue.

"It's just a luminous ball of gas yet humans continue to wish upon them. They look up to them for comfort and guidance. Yet up close; it's nothing. Gas just held together by its own gravity"

Facing away from you, I can hear some shuffling behind me. You've risen to your feet now from your submissive position on the floor.

Shame.

But you aren't taken the chance to run.

Interesting.

Instead, you come up close behind me.

"I see through you, Louis, I hope you know that" your sudden confidence surprises me but I don't answer.

You come around the side of me and make yourself visible in front of me.

"I get the whole front, you're putting off, but I'm not an idiot. You may have been watching me for a while, but I can promise you Tomlinson, the moment you looked away I was staring straight back." You reach into the pocket of your hoodie.

"And I think you left this at mine, it's very rude to return gifts, Louis" you push the book right into my chest with a thrilling grin to your face.

And you walked away, but I let you go. Why?

Tragic Romances, that's why love.

I like to play games Harry Styles, it's a personal thrill of mine, I enjoy the natural order and survival of the fittest. I enjoy dolls and this world is my own personal dollhouse. I feel like you enjoy games too Harry and I knew, I said it right from the beginning, your emerald eyes hold a penetrating danger in them, and I could tell you kept that hidden, until now.

Nothing is ever what it seems to be, every human possesses a vulnerability in them when provoked in the same way that when given no other option, even the most kind-hearted of individuals know what it takes in order to survive.

So, what do you think Harold?

Do you think you can survive me? 

Round one Harry.

You ready for Round two?