Apocalypse | L.S [Completed]

LX

The Aftermath.

"Should've done this the day you were born." Mark snarks, holding Louis' head by his hair and placing his finger around the trigger.

"Louis!" And then the bang echoes, everything else fading away.

Louis falls to the ground as the ear-deafening echo of the bang rings throughout him, everything around him a blurry buzz and his body disconnected from his mind. He blinks, eyes unfocused as he feels the cold ground beneath him, suddenly a bit more aware of the catastrophic state his surroundings are in. He awaits the pain, death perhaps, too, but instead it's his regaining senses that flow in, the screams, the shouts, the deaths — all of them as clear as it was before Mark's men held him down.

Fuck. Mark.

His heart prays as he looks up in search of Mark, expecting a gun still pointed to his head. But, instead, he finds nobody. Confused, Louis discovers himself frowning, the buzzing flowing through him yet. Shouldn't Mark be...killing him? So, Louis pours his strength into his legs and pushes himself up with all the fucking will he has.

Completely lost, he stumbles, mind not processing one bit of whatever the fuck is going on. What is going on? And then he sees it. Through the ocean of people, above the screams and the murk of the dying candles and the maniac chaos, his eyes find Harry's. Alive. Standing with a raised gun, eyes wide and rimmed, starring behind Louis with undeniable rage, so fucking dark and filled with an emotional squall. Starring, just starring as if his eyes know nothing but what's behind Louis, his breathing loud with violent intakes.

But Louis sees nothing apart from his Harry. His eyes defy to acknowledge the rage or the hysteria in Harry's possessed eyes, all he sees is the very alive frame of his boyfriend. Breathing. Very fucking alive. Fuck! Louis feels his legs gain an astronomical weight of realisation, too shaken to move from where he is standing, stuck where he is with the weight holding him down.

"H-Ha-rry?"

And that ignites something deep inside the boy with the curls, his frantic eyes shaking almost as they snap towards Louis, stabbing Louis' heart. Louis gasps, realising now that he is, in fact, breathless, and eyes as Harry allows the gun in his hand to hit the ground, allows his legs to move on their own, with his eyes staying  horrifyingly fixed on Louis. Louis opens his arms when Harry nears him. Louis wraps them hermetically around him when Harry crashes into his chest. Louis holds Harry when he lets go and falls, his weight on Louis.

"Y-yo-you are a-alive, B-bon-b-bons?"

"You are alive." Harry says, sobbing into Louis' neck, the wetness of his tears on Louis' skin. Harry clutches onto the fabric of Louis' shirt, holds him so fucking hard that Louis wonders if anything will ever separate the two of them. He wonders if he ever wants to be separated from Harry.

"I thought," Louis croaks, hiding his face in Harry's hair, "I thought I lost you." He shakes, every bone in him trembling as he reminisces the moments he thought he would never see Harry. Thinks about the moments he was on his knees with a gun to his head and the only thing he could think of was how he did not want to exist at all if his existence meant to be without Harry. "Where were you?!?!" He cries out, kissing every inch of Harry's skin as the tears roll down his cheek.

"Looking for you," Harry says, holding Louis tighter. "When you left, they came for me." He speaks under his breathe, terrified almost, as if they are still here, snatching him away from Louis. "I shot them, and I took Dude with me. I was searching for you, I looked everywhere," he almost accuses, but the lining of woe assures Louis that the boy is merely shaken. "I looked everywhere until I found Daniel."