panic [larry stylinson] ✔️

21.

** hi guys i was considering discontinuing the story, but then i was like no jimmy protested! might as well finish it, right? so here is the second to last chapter i love you.

For about two hours, Harry was leaving Louis alone in the house; making sure that he was tied up to the bedpost by rope. He would have let Louis tag along with him, but Coachella was near and there were a ton of people walking around who would certainly notice the YouTuber who claimed to be 'on vacation'. Louis had begged and begged to come with him, just so that he could be exposed to the outside, but Harry yelled at him and tightened the rope around his arm.

Now Louis wasn't an idiot. He had been planning for this to happen for weeks now, planning on how to get out of here without bringing on suspicion—and this happened to be the perfect opportunity. Faking injuries so that Harry could bring out the first aid kit became a habit, and he took out as many small tools as he could. He didn't know what time Harry would be back, so he had to make the process quick.

Scooting over to the edge of his bed, he grabbed the end of the cover with his teeth and yanked it over, his eyes brightening when he saw the pair of scissors still sitting there. He used his teeth to grab it as well, carefully bringing it down to the rope and sticking it between his tummy and the nylon. It took several tries, but Louis managed to cut the rope from there, therefore, freeing his stomach from the grip.

He did his wrists next, being careful enough not to cut them as he tried to break through the thick rope. Then he was released. Standing up, his stuck the scissors into his back pocket and looked at his hands; smiling when he realized—he was free. Well, not completely. There were still many things that Louis had to get past like the security officers downstairs, but he managed to get on some of their good sides whenever Harry took him out for dinner.

His legs are wobbly from being asleep for too long, but he moved with urgency out of his room, making sure to hold his breath to listen for any sudden sounds. When there wasn't any, Louis carefully moved into Harry's old room and pulled out two sewing needles from his pocket and using them to pick the lock. Eventually the door opened, and Louis wanted to break down into tears because everything was going according to plan now.

This was where Harry kept his technology, and so Louis walked inside and actually started crying because there was a house phone sitting on a dresser right across from him. He didn't expect traps to be set out around the room, but he knew that Harry would have a way to find out about this. He picked up the phone and swiped at the tears surrounding his eyes, dialing the number he knew by heart before putting the phone up to his ear.

There was at least five seconds of ringing before the person answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Niall? It's me, Louis."

—

It was hard, but Louis managed to escape the building without being noticed. He had to crawl around majority of the time and almost got caught by an on duty guard, but he was able to find the backdoor, which lead outside.

"Are you okay?" asked Niall worriedly when they were inside of the car, scrunching his nose up when he saw Louis consistently look behind them. "Louis, you're safe. He won't bother you again—I already called the police and they're doing their best to look for Harry. Fuck, I knew that something was wrong with that guy. Then when Zayn went to jail...I'm so happy you're back."

"It's been hell, Niall. I can't even think—"

"Did he rape you?" inquired Niall with frustration, seemingly ready to turn his car around and go look for Harry his self.

"No! He was...surprisingly consensual. He just has really bad anger problems."

They were pulling into a street that was surrounded by abandoned buildings and littered with stray cats. It was nearing nighttime, and so the scenery was dull and eerie, which only put Louis on even more edge than before. It wasn't safe for them to be riding out here when Harry could be lurking these very corners, silently watching. Then the car stopped.

There was the sound of an engine rattling before the car broke down in the middle of the street, the lights flickering off, as well as the car radio. Louis' breathing became erratic, and Niall immediately started sweating while trying to turn the key in the ignition. "Goddamnit, I'm going to go see if there's anyone nearby. Fuck."

"Okay." muttered Louis nervously, his eyes darting around and resting on the ongoing darkness in front of them. Niall got out of the car and slammed the door shut, and so Louis sank down in his seat and muttered curse words. Ten minutes passed when Louis didn't hear any movement from behind the car. "Niall? Are you out there?"

No response.

Louis whimpered and cautiously got out of the car, grabbing ahold of the scissors in his back pocket before turning around; hyperventilating when he realized that Harry was standing several feet away from him. The younger boy looked livid as he held a gun up to Niall's head, his hand covering the blond's mouth. He smiled when he realized that he caught Louis' attention, then spoke calmly.

"Baby, I've missed you."

"Please, let him go. He didn't do anything." pleaded Louis brokenly, looking into Niall's terror filled eyes. "It's my fault. It's mine—"

"It's never your fault, flower. He took you away from me, and brainwashed you into thinking that he cared. You know he only wanted to play the hero because his views on YouTube were falling behind without you." reciprocated Harry, glaring when Niall managed to get his mouth to move from his hand.

"He's lying, Louis!"

Louis recognizes this, this thing that Harry does, which is his manipulative state. When he could make Louis believe in absolutely anything and talk him out of situations. His brain scrambles to look for an answer, but his thoughts are flat as Harry sticks the gun in Niall's mouth. "Don't kill him, please. I'll go with you if you just...don't touch him. I'll go anywhere with you. Remember how we discussed Europe? We could go there, Harry."

"Really?" asked the 17 year old, his finger tapping against the trigger of the gun. "Do you think that I'd let him go like that? What? So he can run off and tell everyone about this, Louis?"

"I—I—don't know."

"Wake up, Louis, this is reality." spat Harry dangerously, shoving the gun farther into Niall's mouth and moving it around. "Wake up. Wake up."

Wake up, Louis.