Present Mixed in the Past

Chapter 62| Touch

Months had passed by at a snail's pace. There wasn't much to do in the small cottage. There was a small room with the basic Light approve books, an art room, and then there was half an acre of land to tend to. Let's also not forget the chores that Ron refuses to do. It may sound like a lot, but the young God had read most of the books in the library, there weren't any art supplies for him to use, the crops only needed watering and doing the chores only took the better part of an hour. But that wasn't the worst part of the slow months.

Harry had to move and speak carefully, least he wanted Ron's full attention. Ron hadn't gone further than unwanted hugs and mild groping, and that's as far as the young God wanted him to go. However, if he did or said something that the red head didn't like, he would go further with forceful kisses, or use magic to bind him in place for hours or days at a time to "take care of him". This form of anger only came out whenever Harry brought up Draco or wanting to go home. To go back to the Dark.

Everything about this, especially the unnerving embraces, disgusted him. He almost wanted to tear his skin off with how the lingering touches made him extremely nauseas. These clearly weren't good thoughts, and he never acted on them for he knew Draco would save him. He knew his Silver Death would never let him stay gone for too long. If Harry had to, he'd wait forever to see him, after all he was still mortal. If he grew too desperate, he would slit his throat in the bathroom, the only room with a lock.

Taking a deep breath, the dark-haired teen ran a hand through his hair. There wasn't anything that he could do at this point. He had no magic, and he couldn't contact Evetta. He had tried for an entire week before giving up. The collar that made him a true mortal, must've also stopped him from contacting the other Gods. They had to be the same chains that kept Merlin hidden from the Gods.

"Angel~ What's wrong?" Thin arms wrapped around the shorter teen's waist.

A chill of disgust made Harry tense his body. He learned quickly that if he shivered, the other would take it the wrong way.

"Just thinking of home." He muttered carelessly, twisting out of the hold. He felt too drained to deal with any of this. More emotionally and mentally than anything physical.

Ron frowned, pulling his Angel back to him. His grip was tight. He needed it to be tight or else his Angel would find a way to escape!

"Angel, we talked about this. Here is your home. You're safe from those slimy snakes here! They will never find you." His mouth twisted into a nasty sort of grin, a mix between pride and smugness. He truly believed that Harry was all his till the end of their days.

"Ronald-" His wary tone held a bite, but his next words were interrupted by a rather red-faced man-child.

"It's Ron or Ronnie, or any other pet name you want to give me. But you're not allowed to call me Ronald."

The young Lord winced as the other's grip tightened more. He really loathed it when he refused to call him Ron. But Ron was too close, too intimate and personal. They weren't like that this time around.

"It's too personal, we're not like that, Ronald! And this can't be home! How can this place ever be home?"

Harry shoved Ron away, rushed to put the small dining table between them. He may not be able to leave within a certain perimeter, but that didn't matter. He just needed to keep his distance for now.

The young male Weasley stumbled, then glared. He really was trying to patient. He hadn't taken it any further than simple touches, seeing as Harry was likely hurt by how rough Draco was with him. However, he didn't understand why his Angel was being so defiant!

Taking a deep breath, he calmed down. He couldn't do anything rash like he did at the Wizard Tournament. Harry's creature had only attacked because he was rash and scared him. Sure, the collar limited his creature side, but even Ron wasn't wanting to push it.

"Angel, enough." However, he couldn't let Harry continue thinking this place wasn't home.

The dark-haired man winced, his breath staggering. He made a mistake. Not just any mistake, but he talked about home, even made it clear that this prison would never be home!

"Stay away!" He shouted, running out of the kitchen to the living room.

"Angel!" Ron gave chase.

The two ran around the house, then outside and then back inside. Ron may have been taller, but Harry was faster. However, he was still grabbed, tossed to the springy couch.

The two struggled more with Harry desperately trying to kick or punch the disgusting Weasley away from him. Then, he couldn't move at all, only staring up at his first friend with large, teary eyes.

Ron was sweating, his hair slightly wind tossed and his eyes glowing almost like Forge and Gred. But there was no kindness and what handsomeness he had appeared more like a poisonous flower.

"Now that's enough, Angel." Ron's hands slipped from Harry's wrists, caressing his forearms to his biceps. "I know exactly what would make this place feel like a home." His mouth curved into a grin.

Harry's lips trembled, tears slipping down his cheeks. Fear and terror crept forward, wrapping around his heart. He desperately hoped that he wouldn't. That Ron wasn't that dispicable and horrible. He doesn't think he could-

"But not now~ If I got you pregnant before the potion's ready, Ginny'll have my head." He laughed at the end, kissing his trapped Angel in a rough manner.

'Draco, please find me.'