Malachite | L. S [Completed]

Extra : A Flight In The Depths

Hello lovelies, I sort of missed writing so thought why not write an extra for Malachite. This shot takes place a year before the summer the fic starts. Do comment, it means the world to me.

Hope you enjoy <3

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The colouring of leaves meant the end of summer, and akin to the air, the cold had begun to bloom in Louis' heart, too. The completion of summer also meant that he had to bid farewell to his beloved for a year and perish in the lifeless months that followed.

Sighing spiritlessly, Louis eyed the vast nothingness in front of him as the eerie sounds of the forest mixed with the chatter coming from the castle behind, the air filled with celebration. The Duke had, after all, hunted down a boar. The sky glimmered with stars that Louis watched in the reflection in his glass, the gold of the whiskey glistening as he brought it to his lips and took a gulp, feeling as it slowly warmed the dry of his throat until he felt a pleasant flush settle on his cheeks.

"Duke Winston's daughter seems quite eager to meet you," he heard the sweet slur of his precious's voice and felt his heart thunder as his saccharine scent blurred the noises. He was dressed in maroon, the cut of his neck deep enough to give everyone a hint of what Louis devoured each night. Harry blinked his drunken eyes, lips stained romantically with wine as he smiled until his cheeks were dented with his dimples. "Pitty," he giggled, morphing the face of a console. "She has not searched for His Highness hard enough."

"Have you grown disinterested in flirting with that viscount?" Louis spat as he gulped down the remainder of his liquor. The reason for Louis' disassociation from the feast had been just that; the terrible sight of the omega laughing at words that had come out from the mouth of someone who was not Louis. "Why have you come to me now? A lowly prince," he scoffed.

Harry giggled and he raised his hand so gracefully as if painting the sky before he touched Louis' cheek with the back of his palm, reading Louis with his malachite eyes. Louis melted in a blink, feeling the bone of his knuckles and the cold of his rings trace his warm skin. "Do not drown yourself in bitterness and hurt when you can facilely ask me to be yours," he spoke in a whisper as his hand halted and he cupped Louis' cheek. Louis sighed against his touch, shutting his eyes as Harry leaned closer and spoke into his ear, "Just ask, my Prince, and I shall be on my knees, praying to you fiercely."

"And will you? Will you be mine?"

"I am a dream," Harry said, his lips ghosting over Louis' as a breeze passed by. It would have been a scandal had anyone wandered near the forest and spotted them in such proximity. "I am yours only for the night, and by the morrow, I am to be forgotten or to be longed for."

"What if I do not wish to wake?"

"Then the dream begins to rot into a nightmare."

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"Come with me to Dirthfall," Louis gasped as he watched the omega on top of him. The porcelain of his skin was glimmering gold with the light of the candles and the sweat on his naked skin, his chest heaving as the peaks of it invited Louis' mouth. Louis gave him a sharp thrust when his movements became languid, and then another which had Harry crying out a melody. Louis grasped his hips passionately, pulling him closer. He knew his heart was awaiting the ache of rejection, yet the words spilt out in desperation. "Be mine, precious, join me to Dirthfall."

"You do not wish me to be yours," he said so lowly that Louis barely caught it. "It is merely your knot speaking." It was not it. Louis could not understand how the omega failed to see that Louis wanted him more than any jewel. How was Louis' love so weak that it had failed to touch Harry's heart? Why was his love weighed so poorly? Why could Harry not love him back? "I am close."