Polaris || l.s.

chapter 6: blur

"No, uh, I do not feel very, uhm, well."

He felt bad for lying to Louis or lying in general. He hadn't formed a sudden liking towards the alpha just because he was a man whose benevolence shone brighter than the night sky's glitters. He was still the man who had stolen his bracelet, he reminded himself. Still the man who was a thief under these fabricated layers.
"If that's the case then do you want me to stay here?" Louis was blinking down at him expectantly, almost as if the alpha would agree if he demanded so, almost as if the alpha would forgo his weekly wages to tend to his needs.

"No." He answered quicker than he would have liked. As much as he loved this small village of Zemira, he couldn't go out in public when the troops were searching for him. He had concluded that the woodland was the safest place for him as of now, or at least until the situation had dimmed down a little. "Are you certain? I wouldn't mind l—"

"It is just a little headache, do not fret, Louis." He tried to reassure the clearly concerned alpha. With the heap of guilt already augmenting in his chest, Louis forswearing his wages (something the alpha obviously acquired after months of hard work) would only result in the heap metamorphosing itself into a deadly profusion of guilt. Harry wasn't too sure he would like to live in the alpha's house with the guilt consuming him whole. "I could try to sleep it off," he croaked out after a while, taking Louis' silence as a latent victory.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Louis announced finally, his words though spoken with a firm tone holding a shy streak of reluctance. "Do you need anything from the market?" The alpha added after a minute, when he was fully prepared to leave the house to sell his groomed wood and clay sculptures in a local market. "Nothing." He replied instantly, shooting Louis a polite smile as a way to bid him goodbye before he let his eyes rest. Two whole minutes went by (maybe more, maybe less) before the sound of the door closing shut resonated through the small house.

He stayed under the blankets until a good amount of time had passed. It was silent; his surroundings, his mind. For once he was thankful for the static state of his mind. His mind had often turned out to be one of his worst nemeses, and it seemed to be just there right now. He didn't wish to resent or loathe the person who was offering him a roof over his head and was keeping him well-fed. But he also didn't wish to form a liking towards the unapologetically unethical person, someone who was morally so wrong that he hadn't thought twice before stealing someone's possession.

Maybe, Harry wouldn't have hated him this much had Louis stolen money, but what he had stolen was perhaps worth its weight in gold. It was something that couldn't be bought with money; it was the only thing he had received in his life that had been brought to him by love.

It is all in the past now, a voice in his head supplied. It was, in fact. It was a part of the life he had left behind. Nevertheless, he had run away from the riches, not the love, he reminded himself.

He didn't even understand why he was justifying Louis' actions in the first place.

The morning passed through excruciatingly slow, almost as if he was trudging through miles of molasses. He laid idly in the nest for what felt like an eternity, staring mindlessly up at the roof. The unwanted thoughts had long since vacated his mind, it was peaceful, refreshing, albeit a little boring. It was soul-destroying; he had probably dealt better with his free time back at the palace. There, he could at least meander around in the never-ending hallways of the grandiose building.

Maybe, he could look for his bracelet in Louis' home.

It was possibly the worst idea he had ever nurtured (perhaps, even worse than the little runaway he had pulled off), but it sounded so exciting, exhilarating, and something that would give his mind a rest, he concluded. Yes, he decided. Unpretezling himself from the mass of bed linen, he stood up hastily on his feet, climbing down from the nest with knobby knees. Giving himself a minute to stabilize his posture, he ensured that the door was locked from the inside before he let his feet guide him to the chest of drawers sitting prettily next to the nest.