Revenge Is A Dish Best Served [Larry Stylinson]

Instalment Twenty Nine

TW:// SELF HARM

"Don't be an idiot Styles, what on earth makes you think that I'm going to let you go?" I really don't even attempt to understand your thought process these days, ever since you chose to date Zayn, I don't think you know what you want anymore. I think you just do what you think you have to, and I'm guessing staying away from me was one of those things.

"I'm just not in the best place at the moment."

"You're here in my company, where else is better" I tease, serious talks were never my thing and I hate how deep this has all gotten, I was so excited for our first date and now you're ruining it with all your deep thinking.

"That's not what I meant" at least I got a slight chuckle out of you.

"Here's how I see it Harry, no one is ever in the best place, this world is dark and depressing and overall, just a huge disappointment, we spend our whole lives searching for something more than what is right in front of us. I don't care if you're in the best place or the worst place, I'm going to be here. And quite frankly, I don't like being told what to do"

You just don't get it Harry, from the moment I laid eyes on you, you were my target, you were my focus and since then, every fibre of me has been devoted to you, and all your dumb decisions.

Letting my eyes wander down your body from your face, all the way to your fingertips, I catch gaze on something I noticed day one, the makeshift material bracelets and now they didn't quite sit right on me, I wondered why you wore them.

I take your delicate large hand in my own and run the pad of my index finger in swirls from the tip of your ring finger, across the palm of your hand, letting my touch explore every crease in your skin, allowing them to fall to their destination at the base of your wrist. I can feel your eyes piercing into my skin, and the added clamminess of your palm indicates that you're becoming nervous.

Holding a firm grip with my other hand, I reach of the knots you've secured the fabric with.

"Don't" you whisper as you catch wind of what my intentions are. I, however, ignore your request as you do as well. Forcing yourself to become vulnerable in my touch. Fiddling with the tight knot, I manage to free its secureness and let the fabric fall to either side.

I know what is under here Harry, I sense it in your nerves, but my eyes need confirmation for what my heart already fears.

I bring my eyes up to yours as I begin to unravel the fabric, you hold my gaze as I sense the growing fear in the confines of your iris's. I don't let my eyes wander from the windows to your soul as you expose your own demons to me, letting the fabric fall free from where it was wound tightly around your secret.

Without needing the sense of sight, I allow the pad of my thumb to search for the truths, feeling where your skin dips in the places you needed to feel pain. Your heavy breaths now evident in your shoulders as you scrummage for the tiniest ounce of bravery to allow me to continue. Continuously feeling the dips and approaching fresh blemishes from more recent punctures. Every millimetre I stumble across adding an increased ache in my chest.

"Do you hate yourself Harry?" I ask a question I don't need the answer to.

"I wouldn't even know myself enough to feel hate, but I don't like what I see when I stare into my reflection" the brutal honesty of your confession is a harder pill to swallow.

To be honest Harry, I'm not surprised, every time I think I have you figured out you surprise me again, but I do think I know your heart enough and your courage just astonishes you sometimes.

Allowing myself to peer down at what I can already see in my mind, I'm met with the reddish contours of punishment lying dormant next to some previously healed ones trying to disguise themselves in the colour of your skin. You did this to yourself Harry, and I was always so willing to indignant anyone who hurt you, but I never took into account that it could be you.

That's when my eyes are drawn to a smaller cut in the patch of skin below your thumb and I am scrupulously confused.

Engraved with the intention of pain into your skin are two small letters, two letters that when placed side by side spell out one thing and one thing only.

LT.

"Why?" is all I am able to ask you, not knowing if I want to hear the response, holding my thumb over its appearance, needing in any way for it to disappear, if only for a moment.

"I feel the need to punish myself if I'm disappointed with my decisions or actions"

Before I allow you to continue, I come to my own conclusion, breaking my own heart.

"Knowing me caused you disappointment?"

Feeling your hand take mine away from what I was hiding, forcing my eyes to fall upon yours. You're smiling and I'm beyond confused.

"No. I did this the night of the party after the graveyard incident, when I walked away from you, I knew I was kidding myself forcing myself to be disgusted in you when it was the complete opposite and I hated that you knew"

I remember that night.

Without answering you, I pull your wrist up closer to my line of vision, looking deeply at my initials etched into your skin and without thinking, I press my lips delicately over their placement. Pulling away, I move my attention to the other evidence, pressing light kisses across every single one of them.

You watch me intently as I cover the area of majority of lower forearm, pausing only a moment to look down over the region before letting your arm back down into your lap wiping a tear away from my own eye. I don't usually cry, ever, but this whole situation has really affected me. You allowed me into one of your deepest insecurities and I have the urge to do the same.

"Can I take you somewhere?"

I don't even wait for your answer before I'm gathering up our things and heading back for the car.

"I need to take you somewhere and show you one of my insecurities and secrets, but before we do, I want you to promise me you will keep an open mind and allow me to explain before reacting?"

You look at me with a mixed expression, both of understanding and also fear, nonetheless, you agree anyway.

"I trust you, Louis"

I wouldn't be saying that just yet Harry. But it's nice to know.

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