Misunderstood- Larry Stylinson

Chapter 1

Louis shut the door as left his best friends apartment. Shivering slightly with cold, night air. Scurrying from the goldenly lit porch to the dim, damp alleys that formed his path back to his shabby flat.

He paused, as he heard a slight scrapping sound, but was about to hurry on, when he heard a whimpering sound, from the same direction. But all he could see was an empty alleyway, leading into darkness. Hesitating, before tentatively stepping into the ominous darkness.

But reaching the end all he saw was a large pile of rubbish. The pile was pretty big, bigger than me. A perfect hiding spot...

And sure enough, the sound came again, and from inside the pile of trash.

Not hesitating this time, Louis reached down and quickly pulled the heavy bags away.

To reveal a boy. Curled in a tight ball, shaking. Examining him closer Louis noticed his tattered cloths, ripped and dirty. Hanging off his lanky frame, more like rags.

Reaching closer to comfort him, he noticed beneath the clothes. Dark, coloured, fading and fresh bruises, coloured and patterned his bare arms.

But as Louis moved forwards towards the traumatised boy, he flinched away. Expecting a blow. But seeing his condition Louis couldn’t say he was exactly surprised.

This boy hurt, clearly homeless, and freezing (who wouldn’t be in this weather?) had probably been through a lot.

Louis' heart lunched in sympathy, for this boy, who looked like he was no older than Louis him self. Not much more than a teenager, 20 at most.

He couldn’t just leave him now could he...?

Lifting him up, carefully, the boy whimpered slightly. Scarily light in his arms, Louis easily carried the fragile boy in his arms. He was sure if he dropped the boy he would break into a thousand beautiful pieces.

Back at his flat Louis placed the boy on the floor, so he could get his keys. Lifting he boy of the dirty floor, he kicked open the door.

He placed his softly on to his couch. He looked at him. In the dim alley, it had been hard to make out anything on the boy, now he noticed he had beautiful curly hair, the colour of dark chocolate. His skin was pale, but was still beautiful, like ivory. His eyes were peacefully closed like he had fallen asleep at some point during the ride. Louis lent forward, to brush his hair slightly out of his face. As Louis did so the boy flinched, even at the harmless movement. This boy had obvious been horribly treated to flinch even in his sleep. Louis sadly smiled as he headed off to his own bed, seeking only the peace of it. His last sad thought before he was engulfed in darkness was that he was going to make this boy happy, so he would never flinch in his sleep again. So he never again to feel that amount of worry or pain again.

And when Louis Tomlinson put his mind to something, he stuck to it.