The year is 1872, the Rogues of London move away from their hometown and out to sea in search of new adventure. However, oceans bite back, pirates are waiting, and stranger love is to be found out there.
Larry Stylinson, including all of One Direct...
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*
I felt the turn in my stomach then, stronger and more vile than I'd ever felt it before. On Harry's face was a look of pure shock, his eyebrows raised, his lips beginning to part, and his eyes searching me to find out if I were teasing him with some terrible humour. But it hurt more to see the moment when he realised that I was not joking; the look of utter destruction starting to make him crumble. His shock became realisation and that realisation became anguish. He crumbled by my bedside, falling apart as something snapped inside of him. I'd never seen him like this and I never thought I would. He cried, emptied his glassy heart like he were coughing up the shards. It hurt to see him, to know that he loved me to the point of looking the way that he did.
*
"Harry?" Louis asked, his own heart pounding in his chest. His hand was shaking when he put it out but Harry pulled away.
"Don't! Don't touch me." His voice was sharp, growling, but it was clearly wounded. He lent back from Louis, gave him a look of painful disbelief, and yet, he stayed by his side.
Erin backed away, shook his head at Louis in disappointment, and left the room with worry written all over him. Louis looked back at Harry, saddened that he'd done such a thing, destroyed by the fact that he'd admitted it. "Harry, I didn't-it's not-I'm sorry." He said again. He searched the words that caused a whirlpool in his heart but couldn't seem to reach them. They jumbled together and Louis became frustrated that he couldn't speak his mind. He had so much to say to Harry, so much love to offer, to prove, but he couldn't find any of it.
Harry looked up, "Why would you do that?" He asked. His hand was over his heart and gripping to his clothes so tightly that Louis believed he'd tear them soon.
They both looked at each other, both scared to lose the heart they were bound to, neither of them prepared to see their lover leave. Harry was searching for a change in Louis, a flicker of something to show how Louis knew he'd done wrong. Bittersweet and most certainly strange were the looks that stood in Louis' eye. Harry could remember how warm Louis was, how loud he laughed, how truthfully he smiled.. When Harry looked at Louis, he saw a soulmate, someone whom he'd never have approached on his own will, but was overwhelmingly glad that they had met.
He could not survive without Louis anymore than Louis couldn't survive without him. They had reached a place where they were now and forever bound by the strings of their hearts, unable to detatch from one another no matter the force that tore them apart. So when the little Steampunk and the young Gypsy looked at each other then, in that long, long while, they fell head over heels for each other once more.
Louis put his hand out, shaking, hesitant. But Harry did not pull back. Louis touched Harry's coat, his bandaged fingertips ghosting over the seams until he could reach no further. He pulled back, only just realising that he'd moved in the first place.
