Boundless •L.S•

Warning|25

Somehow, Louis and Harry both end up agreeing that they are hungry and somehow, once again, they agree to cook something.

Well, mostly Harry, Louis has taken up mixing up the mixture - it's then that Harry takes a few steps back and watches the way that the older lad is concentrating so much on such a simple task.

The curly-haired lad opens his phone up and sees the notification on his Twitter.

It's the way that only a few simple words that are typed into the phone and sent to Harry can make his stomach churn.

Harry hates to admit it, but a simple notification can manage to shake him up and frighten him so much that it almost makes his knees go weak.

He reads the message over and over, every time seems to make it more haunting, Harry almost wants to throw his phone away as if that will help him in any sort of way.

'Be careful, I'm watching you.'

Harry looks out of the window to see if he can notice anything, but no.

Nobody's outside.

That only seems to make him more nervous.

He knows who is texting him, but that doesn't ease his racing heart and thoughts.

Harry moves his finger, about to block the person when another message pops up.

'Don't try to play the brave one, sweetheart.'

And that's when the man just takes a screenshot of the messages and blocks the person looking up at Louis and tapping away on his phone, now taking a picture.

Soon after he finishes, he posts it and turns off his phone, Harry has moved on from that chapter of his life, and Henry is harmless enough now.

Harry is terrified, and even if he wouldn't admit it, he's thankful that Louis is here.

The older lad's presence makes him feel at least a little better.

"You're a mess." Louis scoffs at the untrue comment on his cooking skills.

"At least I'm doing something, not like some others." He side-eyes Harry.

Harry takes over the cooking, and Louis opens up his phone, a smile forming on his lips. "So endearing, you say?" He looks up at Harry, who just keeps on busying himself.

Louis gently pushes the bowl away and pries the spoon from Harry's hand, getting closer to the taller lad.

No, he won't explain to anyone why he is doing this, and no, Louis doesn't know either

"What are you doing?" Harry speaks up his tone even as he looks at Louis's eyes, trying not to glance down.

Louis gently puts his hand on Harry's cheek, his fingers slowly grazing his skin before his palm makes contact with it, the action making Harry hold a breath.

They both look at each other, their eyes, and minds consumed by the lust that they so hard have been trying to avoid and bury in the back of their minds.

It's wrong, but that just makes it better, more tempting.

"If I kiss you right now, will you push me away?" Louis asks, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"No." Harry breathes out barely above a whisper, but Louis hears, that's all they both need - all they need, and it's like the two worlds just collided into such a beautiful catastrophe.

Their feelings an univeteable chaos.

Their lips meet in a perfectly synced kiss, perhaps because this isn't the first time or just because.

It isn't hungry, but at the same time, it's not slow. It is not tender, but it isn't mean.

It's almost natural, Louis melts at Harry's sinful lips, he is himself and nobody else.

Just Louis and Harry -

They pull away.

The doorbell just rang, "Fuck yourself." This is the only thought that Louis has as he flips off practically nobody in the direction of the door.

"I will get it," Harry says with a breathy laugh at Louis's reaction.

"Yeah, okay," Louis nods as he scratches the back of his neck, questioning his life choices.

Harry nods and goes to open the door, but Louis pulls him back by grabbing his hand crushing their lips into another kiss and pulling his hair a little.

"What was this for."

"So they know what you were doing." Louis says, giving Harry one last peck, "and leave."

Harry nods and leaves to open the door while fixing his hair.

After the lad thinks he is presentable enough, he opens the door.

And what he feels at the person standing in front of him could be described as his heart dropping to his feet - his legs going weak and him getting tense.

Words can't describe the heavy feeling of fear, overwhelming to the point where Harry forgets how to breathe but in the worst way possible, not like he does when Louis touches and kisses him - no, this is not the case at all.

Henry hasn't changed over the years other than the creases on his face being a bigger giveaway to the man's ageing.

His eyes are still the same ones that look at him as if he is still the little prey that he had been ages ago, the same grey eyes that haunt his nightmares.

His expression is sinister, as a smirk is formed on his lips.

"Hi, sweetheart." Henry's voice comes out sweet as honey, the same voice he used to speak to Harry.

"What are you doing here?" Harry musters up.

"You know well why I'm here," his 'sweet' smile slowly turned into a sneer.

"No, Henry I don't." It seems that he grows braver with the minute passing by.

"I warned you, Harry, and what did you do?"

"You have no say..." Harry's voice trembles, his hands clutched tightly into a fist.

"You're mine." Henry grits out as he reaches out and grabs Harry forcefully by the arm.

By now, the green-eyed lad is trembling, memories from the past coming to life once again.

"No..." Harry whimpers, "I'm sorry - " it's getting harder to breathe.

"I thought I had taught you better than to be such a little slut." He says his grip getting stronger.

And now this is 17-year-old Harry, who is cowering and trying to make himself as small as possible.

A single tear escapes Harry's eye.

In the wrong hands, his past has become the deadliest weapon.