Angels in Hell (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 18

April 27th, 2018

Alternate Universe

They hurt him? No. No one hurts my Harry. I burst through the door to see five little twats standing around Harry. Harry holds his hand to his right eye and his other eye is filled with tears. I pull him out of the crowd and behind me.

"Give me the damn bear," I sat putting out my hand.

The boys look at me with wide eyes and the one tosses me the bear.

"Run," I demand.

They all five run away quickly murmering to eachother. I immediatly turn to Harry and hold him in my arms.

"Are you alright?" I whisper. "How bad did they hurt you?"

Harry sniffles and uncovers his eye. It's red, purple, and blue underneath already. I cradle his face in my hands.

"Those little jerks," I say. "Let's get you home to get ice on that."

He nods and cries into my chest, holding his bear tightly. He appears to be so young and innocent and I just want to cradle him in my arms and call him baby. On the car ride home, we sit in silence other than Harry's small sniffles. There was only one other time when I've seen him cry quite this much. In Africa on the other world with the sick children. It was too much for all of us to handle really.

"Louis?" he whispers still crying.

"Yes?" I say pulling into the driveway.

"I learned that I don't need this silly bear," he says as I turn off the car. "I only need you. You're my... my-"

"Boo Bear?"

He smiles through his tears.

"Sure."

As we exit the car, I say jokingly,"I really wish you would have figured this out before we went to the fair."

"Me, too," Harry says sadly as we enter our house.

Then, he collapses into my arms crying. I lead him to the couch and sit him down while I go to get ice for his eye.

"How long has this been going on?" I ask putting ice into a bag.

"Too long," he replies from the livingroom. "Like first grade."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I ask wrapping a towel around the bag and going into the livingroom.

"You would have made a big deal and call the school. Then, they'd make fun of me calling me a tattle tale or saying that I am a fag. Or maybe even that you're a fag. I don't like it when we're called that."

"Me either."

I hand Harry the ice and he lightly puts it to his eye. I sit next to him on the couch.

"I hate my life," he whispers. "Well at school, anyway. I like it here and at the radio station. I pretty much hate my life when I'm not with you."

"You should have told me about what was happening. That you were getting bullied at school. I would only talk to your school if it was really serious. But you should talk to me about this. I care about you," I say concerned.

I put my arms around him and he rests his head on my chest like always, feeling the beat of my heart.

"You're my baby," I whisper running my fingers through his hair like he usually does to me.

He hugs me closer and suddenly says after a moment of silence,"I just wish I could die."

I look at him with wide eyes.