Sweet Dangers

I Love You

I couldn’t believe what I had dragged myself into.

Harry was no longer the sweet boy who worked down at the bakery and made me cupcakes. He was now the boy who smoked, had tattoos, bought things from big men in alleys, and had completely stolen my heart. Why did I love him? Because of him I had lost my family. Because of him, I lay here, bruised and broken. Because of him, I was now addicted to smoking. Because of him, I wanted to feel control. I wanted to be possessive.

I knew I shouldn’t be blaming Harry, I could have easily walked away from all this. I knew that wasn’t true. I could never walk away from Harry. He was too perfect and beautiful. Even lying here with him, with his one eye swollen shut, lip split, and body bruised, he was still one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

He had his arms wrapped tightly around me, his head nuzzled in the crook of my neck. His cracked lips were pressed against my collarbone, and I could feel his warm breath on my neck. His fingers were holding tightly to my neck. His body was pressed against mine as much as possible, as if making us one person would heal his pain. I wanted so badly to heal his pain.

I thought for a moment. Today was Monday. My head was pounding, I had a hangover. I hadn’t gotten a substitute teacher to take my place. Holy shit. I slid my arm out from under me and carefully plucked my phone from my back pocket. I brought my phone up to my face and quickly called the school.

When the principal answered I explained I had really bad family issues going on (not a lie), I felt like shit (not a lie), and Mr. Betz had said he would fill in for me (Lie, but he’d do it anyway. We were pretty good business friends). I hung up, turning back around, to find Harry wide awake and staring at me intently.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“I had to call the school and tell them I couldn’t come in today,” I told him, tucking a curl behind his ear.

“What about tomorrow?” Harry whispered.

“Hazza….” I began, bringing back the nickname. “I need a paycheck. In a few months maybe we could afford a bigger apartment-”

“No!” Harry screamed, tears in his eyes. I lay there, paralyzed by the anger flashing in the younger boy’s eyes. He shot up quickly, wincing as every bruise on his body ached. He gripped my wrists and forced me to lay perfectly flat against the bed. He had one knee on either side of me. He was staring intently into my eyes. “I need you, Louis,” he whispered. “I need you!” he yelled again, louder, as if to convince himself. “You can’t leave me.” A tear slipped from his eyes, and fell onto my chest. I was barely breathing. Here was another side of Harry I had just discovered. The angry side, and the younger, childish side.

“Haz, I wasn’t saying I would leave you. But don’t you think it’s best for our future if I go to work and make money?” I asked him, slightly scared at the anger he was releasing.

“Yes. But, just for a little while. Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded. He was still gripping my wrists tightly, forcing them back onto the mattress. I didn’t know what else to do. I nodded.

He relaxed slightly, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing my chin. His cracked lips felt rough against my skin. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he pressed himself onto me. He was shivering, the blanket had been thrown off in his outburst. I reached down and pulled the cover over his shivering body. One of his hands sneaked up the front of my shirt, his cold fingers splaying against my warm stomach. His other hand was stroking my side, making me shiver whenever he did so.

My own hands slid down his naked torso, ending up in the back pockets of his jeans. I kissed him softly, the taste of dried blood on his lips. He licked them, trying to soften them, but when we kissed I just ran my tongue over them anyway, making him shutter in response.