Freak

Just another day in insanity

Ok so I did some INTENSE editing on this thing, and I'll do the rest of the chapters soon, so bear with me and the suckiness of this story.  Really.  Looking back over it. . . .the grammer. . . .the clichés. . . .I WAS SUCH A CARROT.  Must.  Fix it.

Harry hated mornings.  No really – like some people say they hate mornings, but they have nothing compared to the deep loathing that resides in Harry’s heart for mornings.  Honestly, if there was never another morning and he spent the rest of his life in darkness, he would probably be content.  To be quite fair, he was better adapted to the dark than the rest of the boys, but still.

He groaned quietly as the bright morning sunlight pierced his brain through his eyes, the pupils shrinking to pinpricks to try and compensate.

Zayn raised a judgmental eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.  “Morning, Hazza.”

Harry dropped his head, weighted down by curls heavy from the shower.  It hit the table, hard.  “Fuck all of you.  In the ass.  With a rolling pin.”

“Cheerful, are we?”  Louis sauntered into the kitchen, sweatpants hung low on his hips.

Well, fuck.

Harry felt his feline senses try to assert themselves, his vision blurring slightly and canines poking into his gums, but he willed it away.  It had gotten harder and harder to mask his freak recently; he blamed it all on Louis.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liam watching him closely.  He ignored him and nuzzled into his elbow, trying to block out the light for as long as he could.

Liam abruptly stood up from the table, his chair squealing a protest against the hardwood floor. "Come on Niall, Zayn, let's go. . . .shopping.  For spaghetti.  Yeah," he suggested, obviously trying to be inconspicuous but only looking ill. Niall opened his mouth to argue, but one glance from Zayn’s amber eyes and he changed his mind. The three boys clomped noisily out of the kitchen, leaving Harry alone.

Alone with Louis.

Dammit Liam.

 They were obviously trying to give Louis an opportunity to interrogate me, and I knew from experience that I couldn’t hold up under pressure.   Louis leaned against the counter on the other side of the kitchen, boxers showing over his sweatpants, drinking OJ out of some terrifying pink princess cup they had gotten from somewhere.  His hazel eyes twinkled and Harry gulped.  Shit.  Very deliberately, Louis drained his juice and placed his cup on the counter.  He then strolled across the kitchen and sat down next to Harry, propping his chin in his hand.

Harry watched suspiciously.  Do not break, Harry. Stay strong.

"Hazza...." Louis crooned gently, "What aren't you telling me?"

His face was very close to Harry’s and his breath smelled like oranges.

Harry’s vision warped.  He hid his eyes instantly, knowing they had gone slit pupiled.   He had seen it in the mirror before – he looked like a demon.

He hated it.

Louis could never see.

“Hello?  Harry?  Are you ignoring me?!?”  Louis’ foot tapped impatiently.  Harry cracked a grin at that; Lou was such a four year old.  He peaked out from under his elbow, and he saw Louis’ knee jiggling irritably.

“Yes, ‘m ignoring you.  The light hurts my eyes,” Harry murmured.

“Well then!  Tell me Harry, what are you keeping secret?  And don’t say nothing, cause neither of us is stupid.”

Thankfully, Harry felt his eyes shift again.  He raised his head and met Louis’ eyes.  “It’s nothing.”

Louis groaned.  “I take it back. You ARE stupid.  You really think I’ll give up so quickly?

Harry shook his head, smiling in spite of himself.  He knew Louis would do his best to pry it out of him.

Louis stood unexpectedly.  “I’ll let this go for now, Styles, but just know that I WILL figure this out.”

Harry didn’t doubt it.