Stockholm (Larry AU)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

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Harry stood in front of the mirror, examining himself, reading those lovebites that were scattered across his neck. He had no idea how to feel in a situation like this, one he had definitely never been in before. Should he be feeling ashamed, for letting that happen, for letting Louis doing unspoken things to him without even trying to push him away? Or should he feel proud because the marks on his skin were left by Louis just hours ago, the one anyone would kill to have, the one he would do anything to have? Maybe the pride was coming from the fact that Louis actually even thinks of him in such a way to do inappropriate things to Harry, and that was quite flattering. 

He brushed the rough tips of his fingers over the bruises, feeling the sensitive broken skin, the dents that had been left by Louis' slight biting, and it felt like heaven to Harry. Never in a million years would he have imagined to be under Louis Tomlinson who was pleasing him just with those soft lips of his. 

He forced his eyes away from the mirror and the marks over to the clock hung on his side wall. The time showing 2 hours past noon, time for a late lunch. Both boys had shared a meal less than a couple hours ago, shared only because despite how much Harry tried to resist and leave, Louis just wouldn't let him. And as Harry's job to keep his hostage safe and happy he had to give into every single one of his requests, not that he was entirely opposed to this specific one. 

Now Harry had to face Louis again, hopefully he'd be allowed to leave this time; only God knows what could happen between them this time if he stayed. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he would love to stay and find out. He quickly finished getting dressed, slipping on a plaid shirt over the jeans he had on already; he left the top buttons undone just the way he always had. Then came the hard part; hiding those marks from Louis. 

It wasn't as if Louis wouldn't know that the lovebites were there, he was the one that made them and with a purpose too. Louis had expected Harry to love them intensely and wear them proudly, and as much as Harry did and wanted to, he couldn't. He felt that if he showed those off, it wouldn't be appropriate, to explain them to himself as the reminders of what he had done with his hostage, even though no one was there to judge and he wouldn't have to explain to anyone.

He also felt that wearing them with as much pride as he secretly wished to would just encourage Louis to go further the next time they were alone and then he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He definitely couldn't deny that he wanted a repeat of what happened between the two boys in the apartment, maybe take it a bit farther, but it wasn't appropriate and it was his job, hence Harry couldn't let himself go, he couldn't let it happen again, he couldn't do this. 

 He grabbed one of his longer bandanas and draped it over his neck, the fabric itchy on the healing skin; he had always worn it on his head, pulling his hair back with it. The feeling of the American flag printed garment around his neck was suffocating and too uncomfortable, begging to be pulled off. Harry yanked the make-shift scarf off his neck, and rummaged through the small collection of clothes he had, and finally found something a bit more suitable and less chocking. A woolen scarf was pulled out, usually used in the winter, but also the only one Harry owned. He slipped it on, looking in the mirror again to make sure he looked okay, and like he expected he didn't. He looked odd wearing a heavy woven scarf inside especially when it wasn't even that cold to wear something like that outside. Not to mention with his shirt only half done up, it seemed to contrast everything causing some kind of suspicion of what's behind the heavy neckpiece. 

But then again, Louis was the only person who would see the scarf, if he did, and he was aware of the bruises; the sole purpose of the scarf to be to hide the bruises and keep Louis' ego and confidence lower. Harry decided to keep it on, and made his way out of his room and to the kitchen. He picked up the food he had prepared earlier and had been postponed once by Louis, him claiming that he just ate and wasn't hungry; surely he was by now.