It Will Rain (Larry Stylinson) {co-written with @Liz_Forever}

Chapter 3

Seconds felt like hours. The days dragged by painfully slow. The only way I kept track of time was by using my nail to scrape a tally mark onto the wall every day.

The guard who had taken Styles' s place was ruthless and if you so much as looked at him the wrong way you were beaten. I was rapidly losing weight. He only fed us twice a day and it was in very small amounts.

It was strange but I actually missed Styles. He may have seemed like a heartless soldier, but I knew deep down there was a person in there. It shone bright when he gave me extra food and water.

The other prisoners hated me because they said Styles favored me, so I slept away most of the days, barely speaking. The aching of fresh cuts and bruises became a familiar feeling. If I wasn't beaten by the guards then it was by another prisoner.

I was a proud person, so when one of them suspected I was a homosexual I couldn't deny it. I sat silently until I was beaten into unconsciousness by four of them. I hoped they would kill me.

**

When I woke up the first thing I felt was pain. It was all over my body and for a second I panicked, thinking they would beat me again if they knew I was awake. I closed my eyes and tried not to move much.

"Blue eyes? Can you hear me?"

It was Styles. A second later I realized I wasn't laying on the concrete floor. Instead I was on some sort of cot. I slowly opened my eyes and was met with a pair a green ones.

"You're awake." He smiled softly.

It was the first time I had seen him actually smile. Not just his evil smirk. His human side was shining once again.

"Where am I?" I tried to sit up and at the same time as pain coursed through my body, two large hands were at my shoulders pushing me back down.

"You're in my living quarters. I found you unconscious a few days ago. You were beaten badly."

I examined his face, noticing the bruises that littered his shirtless torso and his arms and face.

"What happened to you?" I rasped. My throat was dry and my voice cracked.

He glanced down at himself and looked up sheepishly. "I had a bit of an argument with the guard who did this to you."

"He didn't do it. The other prisoners did."

A wave of warmth washed over me, knowing that he fought the man he thought beat me. I knew he cared.

"Why?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

The memories came flooding back and I whimpered subconsciously. I blinked back tears, not wanting to look weak.

"Because I'm gay." I said quietly.

Styles didn't say anything. I refused to meet his gaze but I could feel his piercing stare on my face.

"What's your name?" His voice was unusually tender and the question caught me off guard.

"L-Louis."

"Louis." He repeated softly. "I won't judge you, but there are people who will as I'm sure you know, so you might try hiding that little fact." He frowned. "People are ignorant, you've got to accept that and carry on."

A tear had unknowingly slipped down my face and Styles used his thumb to mop it up.

"Can I stay here for a couple days?" I asked warily. I didn't want to push my luck.

"I'm going to keep you here as long as I possibly can." He glanced at the door then back to me. "I told the guards that you started the fight and therefore, should be kept separately from the other prisoners. They said since I thought that that you would stay with me."

"I'm sorry." I whispered embarrassingly. I thought he was doing it out of kindness but in reality, he was forced to.

"I don't mind. I would have asked to watch you, but they would get suspicious that I was planning something and I'd probably never get to see you again." He stood then, leaning over to tuck the sheets in around me. I blushed at the close proximity and quietly thanked him.

He walked to his bed and my eyes widened. He was only wearing a pair of tight black boxer briefs. I turned my head, hiding my red face.

He crawled into the bed across from mine and rolled over so that his back was to me.

"What time is it?"

"3 AM." He shifted, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

I sighed and as I tried to get comfortable I realized two things. One, I was chained to the bed by the ankle cuff, and two, bandages were wrapped around where my ribs were. I suspected some were broken since it hurt to move.

I shifted some more, but I couldn't get comfortable. I almost screamed when I felt two cold hands on my arm. Styles shushed me and helped me sit up, then he put a pillow under my back. When I layed back down the pain was bearable.

"Thank you."

"Stop saying that." He chuckled. "It's the least I can do."

He got back into bed this time facing me. I could barely make out the outline of his body through the dark.

"Styles?"

"When it's just us you can call me Harry."

"O-Okay then Harry, who's winning the war?"

It was quiet for a long time before Harry's voice disturbed the peace.

"We're all losing, and not just the war."