Sweet Torture (One Direction AU) (bxb)

Ch. 4.

Liam lay there in the cold, stuffy and, now-bloody room for days. Too drained to move from his spot.

The door opened and Louis stepped in, the rag in one hand, the bottle in the other, "You haven't been eating. Why?" He asked briskly.

"Tired. Hurts," Liam murmured weakly, the words barely heard by Louis.

Louis walked over and examined the wound, swearing quietly. It had become infected. Not that much, but it still was. He wet the rag and proceded to roughly wipe the cut, "This room is starting to smell... Gonna have to clean it soon..." Louis mumbled to himself.

Liam heard it, but just didn't bother saying anything.

"It looks disgusting in here, don't it..." He said quietly as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Louis leaned against the door, trying to understand something foreign. The strange emotions. The warm, safe feeling that resonated through his body.

"What are you doing?" It was Zayn.

Louis didn't answer and shrugged before walking away, leaving Zayn staring after him in confusion.

He walked through the hallways of the house before finally reaching his room. He walked in, locking the door behind him.

The room was dark and extremely messy. Dark because of the fact that there were no windows, and messy because the room was cluttered with all sorts of stuff. A few knives set down on the desk, as well as overturned and broken picture frames which all looked as though they'd once been cherished.

Louis turned on a small lamp, illuminating the room with a soft glow before throwing himself facefirst onto his bed, screaming into his pillow until he didn't have any more air. He pulled his face out of the pillow, his eyes catching on the picture frame at his bedside. The one he'd flipped over years ago. Back before he'd become the man that he is.

After taking a deep, shuddering breath, he slowly reached a nervous hand towards the frame.

He picked it up, flippin git back over, his fingers trailing over the wood that framed the photograph within.

After a few seconds of just doing that, he put it down on the pillow in front of him, his heart aching as he looked at the picture. It was evidence that he hadn't always been heartless and cruel. That he'd known happiness, love, and all the other emotions that make up 'humanity'.

The picture was of Louis and another lad. They were grinning at the camera and yet looking at each other with love in their eyes. Maybe they hadn't been grinning at the camera. Maybe they'd been grinning just from the presence of one another. From the feeling of true love in the air.

It was a picture that had been taken in Hyde Park on one of the truly sunny days in London of that year. Almost three years ago.

He'd been a cheerful, 18-year old lad who didn't have a care in the world, who still hadn't grown up. Hadn't gained much maturity in his 18 years of living. 

Then came Harry. A boy, just a year younger than he'd been. If you'd asked Louis back then, he would've told you, "It was love at first sight,"

They'd gone on dates, and overall, just hung around, sometimes forgetting that the world wasn't just the two of them. That the world wasn't an ugly place where they would be hurt, both emotionally and physically. That nobody else existed.

Their relationship was something out of a fairytale. They felt sparks every time they touched and saw fireworks every time they kissed. They felt like they'd known each other their whole lives even though they'd only known each other for a month and a half, two at most.

But it didn't last. Nothing good ever does.

A few months later, Louis found out that Harry had been cheating on him, with his best friend for almost the entire duration of their relationship.

*Flashback*

Louis had walked into Harry's flat the same way he did most nights, considering they almost basically lived together. 

The flat looked like it always did. A messy living room, the always strangely clean kitchen and the dining table strewn with papers and assignments from UNI. The only difference tonight was that Harry was nowhere in sight. He wasn't spread out on the couch, watching the telly. Nor was he slumped at the table, trying to solve a difficult maths problem.

So Louis headed for Harry's bedroom. Maybe he'd gone to bed early because of the stress from his courses, he thought to himself. But as he was about to open the door, he heard quiet moans coming from inside, and he froze, his hand on the handle, suspecting.

And when he hesitantly opened the door, his worst suspicions were confirmed.

Harry was lying there with another man, doing more than just lying there. In that way.

When the unknown man lifted his head, Louis gasped silently. It was Josh. One of his best mates. How could he do this to him?? But then again, Harry was doing the same, and he was more than a friend.

Louis bit his lip, tears falling from his eyes.

"How long has this been going on?" Louis asked, his voice surprisingly steady considering the fact that he was crying his eyes out. 

Harry looked up in surprise, his eyes desperate and filled to the brim with pain, "Lou," He started, his voice wavering, "It's not what it looks like,"

Louis' tears kept falling, "Then what is it, if it's not what it looks like? What is it if it's not that you're cheating on me WITH MY BEST MATE?!" He screamed the last few words, "How long has this been going on..?" He asked again, his voice breaking.

Harry didn't say anything for a few moments, "Almost four months..." He finally answered, almost too low to be audible.

And that was the breaking point for Louis, because they, meaning he and Harry, had just celebrated their four-month anniversary last week.

"So this started just after we started," It wasn't a question. It was a statement of truth. He knew that's wht happened, but he wanted the confirmation from Harry.

With tears beginning to flood his eyes, he nodded, a heartbreaking expression on his face, "I'm so sorry, Lou. I love you, so much. Please don't leave me," He begged.

"Then you shouldn't have done it in the first place. You ruined everything!" Louis spat out before running out of the flat.

*end of flashback*

 Louis laughed bitterly at the memory. It was that day that he broke, changing completely. From the fun, cheerful and immature boy to a heartless, murdering douche.

He laughed again. He'd become what he'd once feared most. A kidnapper. A murderer. And honestly? He knew he needed help, but what therapist would agree to take in a murderer and not report him? No one.

Maybe Liam could help him. But who was he kidding? Why would he? He'd basically ruined his life.

Louis sighed quietly, putting down the frame.

This whole fiasco was his fault.

Like it? So, it turns out, it was all Harry's fault, or was it? I actually got it up today! I promised @hanzey231 I'd get it up today. And I did. So proud of myself. Hope you like it! I'm gonna start typing up the next few chapters now.