Revenge Is A Dish Best Served [Larry Stylinson]

Instalment Eighteen

"I feel myself feeling threatened again and that familiar itch is coming back to me. It's not that I want it to; but I can't handle people messing with what is mine. I don't like people touching my things."

Admittedly, I hadn't been back here in a while, this had been the longest I had gone without visiting and I felt guilty to a degree. But sometimes; life gets in the way.

"I know you understand, you always did understand me, and I just know you would agree. But I worry; Harry isn't like the other dolls, he's almost special because I think he could almost be a puppeteer."

Your hand grazes me slightly as you lay dormant in your bed. A place you had spent the last four years. I remember the day of your funeral well, having to pretend to grieve like half the people there, and they didn't have the luxury of knowing you were still alive. That was my little secret. At least my forced affection was for the knowledge that you were still alive, the artificial behaviour coming from the rest of them was laughable.

I grip your hand in mine and give it a light squeeze, the only sentiment I give you lately to show my affection for you. "I know" I whisper.

I went through the stages of guilt having you down here with me; especially when I saw your mother struggling through losing you, but if anyone knew you were still alive and the details behind what happened that night, those details would highlight me as the reason and that could be very bad for me.

I've done the research, you aren't getting any better, you won't ever regain full motion, but your brain is still on high gear so you're great for my own personal vent machine. You can hear and your brain can receive everything I say, but just those tiny little strings that give your mouth the mobility of speaking; well they don't exactly work anymore. Can't say that I mind never having to worry about the back chat or sass coming from you.

But you hurt me; and at the time, we were both so young and naïve and I thought this was love. Obviously, I was wrong, but I'm doing my best to take care of you. It would evidently be more beneficial for me to rid of you, you'r taking up precious supplies after all.

"But this Zayn guy I tell you. I think you two would have gotten along, you're both arrogant pricks after all, both just totally consumed with yourselves. It's sick really."

I can see your eyes tighten toward me, but I don't care that I have offended you really. If it wasn't for the hint of guilt, I felt that night, you would be rotten six feet under.

"You helped me with Jared, now I need your help with Zayn. These people can't keep stepping in my way, they need to be taken care of. Just, tell me what I'm doing is okay, when I get the go-ahead from you, it makes it okay. Because I just know, under everything you did, you really did just want the best for me."

The slender closing of your eyes as you attempt to turn your head away from me, I can tell, I just know you think this is the right decision, and just like Jared, these people are parasites, and they are messing with what is mine. I can't have that. I take care of my dolls; I love all of my dolls and I just want to see them succeed.

"I knew it, I knew you would see it the way I do. Alright, well I need to go and see Harry, he's finishing his shift at the bakery soon. I want to see where he heads tonight." I look down at my watch and see that I only have a few minutes to get across town.

"I'll see you soon alright, behave yourself Michael."

And with that, I reconnect a new saline drip from the metal rack and check the insertion. Still looks all clean. That's a relief. I don't need you causing me anymore drama or inconvenience than you already have these past four years. Keeping up the façade that someone is dead when they are actually very much alive can be very emotionally draining on one person. Need to make this as easy as possible for me.

Coming up the stairs out of the bunker I pass the decaying mess on the floor up against the cement wall, wrapped firmly in a canvas bag, mind you, after two years it's more just bones than anything.

"Really need to get rid of you" I mumble to myself before locking the hinge nice and tightly.

~

Approaching the bakery, I can see you Harry, locking up the main doors, struggling to juggle everything you've contained in your hands. You really need to get yourself a separate backpack for your work things, this unorganised thing you have going on is frustrating, I don't know how you do it.

"Closed already, I was hoping for a pie." Praying that you see my humour in my sarcasm, you indeed just roll your eyes at me. Unknowing that it is one of my favourite sites.

"You really riled up Zayn the other day, you happy with yourself?" you sound uninterested, although not entirely mad about what I achieved.

"I don't know what you're talking about, we had a lovely chat." I give of my best smile, teeth and all, I think even my head tilted to the side for you Harry, what have I become?

You find this humorous as you shake your head and let out a breathily chuckle with your hands dormant on the lock. You're hesitating about leaving. Interesting.

"Well?" I push to make you think harder as you turn to me in confusion.

"What?"

"How about that pie?" I hold up a 20 in between my fingers.

You exhale your last hesitant breath before reaching the key back into the lock and allowing us both inside, locking the door behind us.

Success.  

I plant myself up on top of the counter as you take your rightful place behind it, grabbing two plain pies from the warmer and bringing them over in two white paper bags. Handing one to me, you wrap the other half way down the pie and take a big bite of it, not saying anything, not even looking at me.

You give into your temptations for me all too easily Harry, I love it.

"Here" I gesture, sliding the money I had held up to you before over toward where you stood in front of the bench I'm sat on.

"Don't worry about it" you decline my offer. That definitely delighted me. You're playing nice. Even after everything, you continue to be nice to me, that's your downfall.

"I believe it would be my job to pay for our dates, I could never make a lady pay" I tease.

However, your look doesn't seem impressed.

"Red" you whisper which I admit, shocks me. "Please Louis, Red" your words mimic that of the night I was with you in the bedroom, but I am confused as to why you're saying them now.

The safe word.

Then, and only then, will I stop.

You want me to stop, but what is it you are wanting to end. I don't understand.

"I need you to stop Louis" you sound sincere, but I like that you've used the safe word, it confirms that you know it was me that night, you knew all along and you still didn't stop me.

"Need? Or want? Because they are two completely different things Harry"

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Do you remember Michael?? Go back to Instalment Nine if you need reference