Written in These Walls

6

A/N okay so this is the final chapter being published for at least a week because I'm on break and am doing other stuff, so I won't be writing as much! But here's Louis' POV about losing Harry and ofc, some more drama.

LOUIS POV
As the guard is dragging me from the room, the only thing I'm looking at is Harry.

My Harry.

The boy I shouldn't love but can't help because he's my soulmate.

He's my person.

My other half.

And they separated us and I can feel my heart tearing itself into two.

That boy had become my home and now I'm being separated from it.

~~

The guards drag me all the way to the dungeons of the castle. Apparently they're choosing to ignore the fact that I am a functioning human being who has the ability to walk.

It's probably a trust thing.

And they're right.

I would just run home.

When we make it to the dungeons, Paul, the head guard whom I met a couple of times, unlocks a cell for me. He gives me a pitiful look as the guards literally throw my small body to the ground.

I whimper in pain as my bones hit the cold, concrete floor. I can feel bruises forming already. The large metal door clicks shut and Paul relocks it.

I sob into my hands.

When I physically can't cry anymore, I look up with heavy eyes to take in my surroundings.

My cell isn't very large. There's a small cot in the corner, just big enough for one person. There's also an extremely rusted toilet on the other side of the cell, in a corner so when using it you can't be seen through the bars. There's also a sink, but no soap or towel, which makes it practically useless. The gate is made of thick, metal bars, the gaps between them wide enough for a hand to slip through.

A Harry-sized hand, I think to myself.

My eyelids are becoming heavier the more I sit there, so I move myself to the scratchy cot. It's not very comfortable, but it's better than sleeping on cold concrete. I drift into a fitful sleep, images from today's events flashing through my mind on repeat. I finally get myself to sleep only to be woken up by what seems to be a few hours later by rattling on my cell door.

"Here's breakfast," A guard growls. "For the Prince's whore."

Embarrassment sets in, my cheeks blushing bright red before spreading the blush down to my neck. I look down to the plate that the guard slid through the bars. It's got a slice of plain bread and a cup of water. I eat it, my stomach protesting that it's not enough. I ignore it, sliding the plate back through the bars and then going back to my cot, curling myself into a ball once more.

~~

The next day goes the same. Plain bread and water for all three meals. My stomach protesting, telling me to eat more. Curling into a ball on my cot and hoping for a
miracle. Or hoping at least for some news.

And that night, my wish about news came true.

Two guards stop outside my cell, deep in their conversation.

Unfortunately, what I hear next is not the type of news I was hoping for.

"Did you hear about the wedding?"

Wedding, what wedding? Is Queen Anne marrying again?

"Ahh, yes. The Prince's wedding is it not?"

Harry's getting married? I will my heart not to shatter again. I try to remind myself that this is probably his mothers doing.