Captive. (ls)

24. Royalty

Louis' POV

Harry's lips parted in awe at my words, and I could see the waves of confusion and pride in his narrowed eyes, "I'm no Prince, Louis, you're mistaken."

I reached out in slight hesitance after seeing Harry flinch away from my touch, his mind thinking the situation over in the brief seconds, before he took ahold of my hands. His face was solid and his slim body was tense. I could tell. He was normally languid and squeamish, but now he sat still.

"There's no mistake, my love," I pressed my lips together tightly and tucked them into my mouth with a soft hum.

His hands gently squeezed mine as a way to show reassurance before his eyes crinkled with a kind smile, "I can't get over the fact that you're a prince."

I laughed gingerly, the fact that royalty was in my blood still made my own head spin, "Haven't been a prince in quite a few years, Harry."

"But you're still a prince. Would've been a king-- a king, Louis!" He laughed, his head tossing back slightly while his curls bounced from their place on his shoulders to slide down his shoulder blades, "The King of England, even."

I rolled my eyes carelessly, "I don't want to be king as long as my father is alive."

Harry stared at me, his head tilting to the side some, "How do you know he isn't, you know, gone?"

"Because--" I started, but Harry's words finally registered in my brain and I realized he was right, "I guess I don't know."

My legs lifted up off the floor and slid up under my thighs, in a criss-cross position, so that I could get comfier. Harry's knees brushed against my own, and I could feel the soft skin that peeked out from beneath my sweater that he wore. It sagged on his shoulders and was boxy around his slim hips, falling to his mid thighs whenever he was standing, but the dark green material pushed up higher on his legs. It just barely covered the black material of his boxers that I knew he was wearing.

"Why don't you call that man back? I mean, he did ask for a Prince Louis," Harry shrugged innocently.

I picked under my nails nervously, "Do you really think I should?"

He lifted his hand and tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to land on the boy in front of me. He wore a confident toothy grin while flicking his head in the directly of the stairs, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"They discover my whereabouts and track me down so that my father can kill me?" I shivered at the mere thought.

He immediately frowned, though his expression was gentle, "That won't happen as long as I'm here."

"You'd barely hurt a fly," I snorted, patting his leg gently to feel to bare skin, "Besides, you don't know how to fight."

Harry's hands flew up to clutch his chest as he collapsed against me in mock pain, "How dare you say such a thing!" He gasped, fingers clawing at my chest while his big eyes peered up at me.

We both giggled softly and I pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, smiling contently when he returned the action to my chest.

"Now go call them," he nudged my hip, basically forcing me out of my spot.

Being the stubborn man I was, I grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him to his feet. The tug on his wrist was so forceful that it sent the boy tumbling into my arms, and I smirked deviously, "Come with me."

"To your office?" He giggled, rolling his eyes before leading both upstairs.

His hips swayed effortlessly and it had me craving him, craving that we would continue on down the hall towards the bedroom so that I could ravish the delightful sight before me, but those wishes were quickly stomped on when Harry turned us both into my office.