Dark || larry

3.5

From the outside, the building had looked abandoned. Harry had kept a very close hold on me as we entered, arm protectively slung round my shoulder. I was surprised by the number of people that were present; some coming up to Harry to wish him good luck, show support.

I didn't like the surrounding inside. It was cold. The grubby white walls refusing to give off any comfort as I sat in the room Harry and his group had commandeered in the lead up to the fight. I had remained quiet on the car ride to the horrible building, my voice unable to speak any words that would be of help to Harry. I thought it best to say nothing at all rather than to express my worry, which I knew was beginning to wear on the beautiful curly-haired guy. I had changed out of my work clothes in the back of his car, the tinted windows providing somewhat of a shield from onlookers. Any other time Harry would have probably had a cheeky peek, but he had diverted his gaze to his phone as he waited.

I was sat on the table in the corner, legs dangling off the edge as I observed the movements round the room. A few of Harry's friends were scattered, taking a seat on the battered sofa over by the wall. Harry had kept glancing over to me as he talked to an older man before he excused himself. My eyes studied him as he walked closer. He curiously peered at me before calling over to Tom. He was quickly by his side, flicking his gaze from Harry to myself.

"Keep an eye on him." Harry spoke warily to Tom.

I frowned as my temporary seat became occupied by another body. I didn't need to be babysat. Harry's possessiveness was almost suffocating. I was eighteen for goodness sake. I jumped when someone called out the match would be starting in fifteen minutes. Harry disappeared, probably going to have a last minute pep talk, so I was left with Tom.

"He's going to be alright, Louis."

I turned to face him.

"H-How do you know? I can't believe you let him do this!"

Tom didn't have time to reply as a few more guys entered the room. Their playful banter filled the small space. I shuffled off the table, walking over to the far side. Tom's attention diverted away from his friends to me.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"To get some water."

He nodded at me, following my movements round to the water machine. I tugged out a plastic cup, placing it under the nozzle and pulling down the small leaver. The cool liquid filled the transparent container and I turned to Tom. His eyes were still curiously on me, I gave him a weak smile, raising the water to my lips. He seemed satisfied before turning back to the guys. I stood for a few seconds making sure he was completely distracted from my presence.

My full plastic cup was left on the side, taking the opportunity to slip out the door to my right. I darted my head from side to side down the corridor. I had no idea where I was going, the layout of the building completely new to me. My mind raced before quickly deciding to take a left.

I didn't have to walk far before I passed an open door, loud voices echoing round the room. It was him, the guy who Harry was fighting, it had to be. I didn't knock, just strode right in. A few of the men's faces looked a little shocked at my interruption.

"Sir, you can't be in here."

I ignored the irritated voice, focusing on the largely built guy in front of me. He was sat down, taking a swig of water from the bottle as he stared at me. His dark hair was closely shaved to his head, tattoos decorating his skin down one arm. But my exploration abruptly ceased as he addressed me.

"What can I do for you, Love?" He smiled.

The facial expression was far from comforting.

"Call off the fight." I demanded.