that's not why × ziam au (short story)

part viii × regret

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"Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them."

—Dalai Lama

-_-_-

Harry's house wasn't too far from Liam's, just a couple of blocks away. It would only take no more than ten minutes to get there, just walking.

But right now, Liam had no time for walking, he was in too much of a hurry to 'take his time'. His long legs quickly sprinted across the streets, jumping over fences and running away from leashed dogs; trying to gain access of a shortcut to his home.

His heart was beating in his chest, but not because of the running. He was sweating and he was running out of breath, but he continued to run, not slowing down one bit.

He didn't know why, or how he had let this happen. He should've known this man was up to something. He was too close to the students for it to be considered normal, he wanted to gain their trust just so he can have his way with them.

Even though Harry was still somewhat on his bad side, he couldn't let this happen to him. He can never wish something so horrible upon someone. So he prayed and hoped that by the time Liam made it to his front door, Harry is safe up in his room, away from that son of a bitch.

After five minutes, Liam had made it, his face red and his throat burning. He loudly knocked on his door and waited for someone to open. He tapped his foot nervously and chewed on his lower lip, praying to any god, that Harry would turn out to be completely safe.

Anne, Harry's mother opened the front door. She smiled warmly at him. "Hello Liam, how are you?"

"I'm great Ms. Styles, thanks. Is Harry home?" He said, completely out of breath, resting his hands on his knees as he wheezed.

To his dismay, she shook her head, not a single feature on her face that demonstrated worry. "No, honey; he's at school, in the after school science program." She said.

Liam face-palmed, groaning and Anne frowned at that.

"Why? Is there something wrong?" Liam's action made her worry a bit, wondering why he would react that way.

He decided not to tell her that her son was possibly being sexually assaulted by an adult, not wanting to worry her about something that (he wished) could possibly be wrong.

"No it's nothing. He just has my history book, that's all." He wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand and faked a smile at Anne. "Thanks, Ms. Styles." He waved and pretended to walk away, calmly.

She unsurely waved back, concern still slightly sketched on her face. "Goodbye, Liam." She slowly closed the door and by the time it clicked shut, the boy dashed away once again, running as fast as his legs could take him.

As he hurried away, leaving the neighborhood, he pulled out his phone, searching for Harry's contact. He tripped a few times because of him directing his sight towards the screen, but he quickly clicked Harry's icon and pressed his phone against his ear. He harshly bit his lip as it rung, almost mockingly.

He didn't answer and it immediately sent him to voicemail. He hung up and dialed again. "Pick up, pick up, pick up." He pleaded quietly, his running slowing down as it rung some more.

It was almost torturous by the third time he called him again and he didn't pick up. Liam could almost feel his heart about to burst in his chest due to the many situations that began to float around his mind. The ways Mr. Martin could be touching Harry, maybe taking him away in his car or forcing himself on him.