Stockholm Syndrome (Larry Stylinson) (Rewrite)

Darkness

Hello lovely readers!

This chapter creates sort of a turn in the situation, and I really hope you all enjoy it.

Warning: Mentions of death and violence, depictions of abuse, and consumption of alcohol.

Every single hint dropped about other characters will be beneficial to their backstories. And this is only part of Louis'. If you read the original, you know.

Please read carefully!

Chapter 13:

Louis' POV:

     I walked back into my room, nearly slamming the bedroom door behind me. Harry didn't know shit about anything. He had no clue what he was talking about or the shit he was trying to pull up to the surface.

     How could he know? How could he know what it was like to live the way any of us did when he spent all of his time safeguarded in some fucking tower? Maybe he didn't have his parents, but he had the Horans to save him. Who the fuck saved any of us but ourselves? Ourselves... and Vince.

     I ran my hands through my hair in pure frustration, sighing as I fell back onto my bed. My eyes trailed along the paths of fairylights before looking right up to the skylight I had cut out in the ceiling, thinking about a time before this room, before this life, and before Vince.

"That one looks like a bunny, mum!" I excitedly squealed as I pointed up at the clouds.

We were laying on a checkered blanket on a hill near the park. Although we didn't have money to go to the zoo or the arcade or the amusement park, I was happy just spending time with my mum.

"It does, bug," She cooed, pulling me closer to her side. "What other shapes do you see?"

"Ooh! A heart! And that's an elephant! And that one looks like an angel!" I screamed as I pointed each one out with my small finger.

"Good job, bug. You're a splendid cloud watcher," She smiled down at me, blowing a raspberry against my cheek and making me giggle loudly.

"Mummy!" I laughed out, wriggling as she tickled my sides.

"Alright, bug." Her smile was still present as she stopped, letting me catch my breath. "We should probably head home now. It's getting a bit late. Come, help me pack up."

I nodded before standing up and helping my mum pack up the picnic we set. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. I held the checkered blanket while my mum held the small basket that was previously filled with food. Mainly just whatever sweets my mum grew out of her small window garden. A few strawberries and blueberries.

"All ready?" She asked, holding her hand out for me. I noticed the bruise on her arm, but it seemed nearly invisible as the sky darkened.

"Ready," I nodded as I took her hand in mine, trying to ignore the bruise there.

We walked quietly down the hill and then down the footpaths, watching people return to their homes as the night grew closer. From the top of the hill, it was easy to see the bigger houses that stood in the distance. Tall and gleaming with wealth and power. They were nothing like the small house that we called home. A two bedroom home that was modest but slowly falling apart-- all leaky faucets and loose floorboards.

As we neared our home, I saw that my dad's truck was in the drive. My hold on my mum's hand tightened as I leaned closer to her.

"It'll be alright, Louis," She reassured. "He won't hurt you."