Taken. (Larry Stylinson + Vampire)

Chapter Forty.

warning: this chapter contains smut. if you do not like reading it there will be marks to indicate the start and the finish of it.

Harry POV:

Memory. A word that could excite a lot of feelings, some might feel happy others may feel sad. The older you get and the more understanding you become, you will fall victim to those memories they will incase you in a prison made of glass where you can see the world yet you can still live in those memories. The sad memories that distinguish the past from the present and always have that magical effect of changing people whether to be kind to other or resentful in their life's. Those unforgiving memories tend to resemble the drop of ink in the middle of a perfectly white parchment, they taint the mind and with it, the feelings become more or less darker.

The glass prison is not always so patronizing. It can allow you long intervals of complete peace and tranquility, but it could never be trusted for it relaxes during these moments only to strike at the most unexpected times in your day. It will agonize the weak mind for possibly a few days if not weeks and once you make up your mind to shut it out, it will tranquilize you with the happy side of it that makes you temporarily forget its harsh and undeniable existence.

But its hated existence can be very enlighting to those who experience it. They tend to push the painful memories back into the black abyss in their minds that work as a disposal of everything that is unwanted and different. It's never right to do it and the excuse that people put forth of how it's painful to re-live those memories is just that, an excuse. That's why those painful memories slip through that darkness only to make you remember them and remind you that they were left unvisited and unattended for, and like weed, it grows and tangles itself in your brain and spreads its roots all the way to your heart; successfully binding your mind and heart into a painful reminder of how, no matter how many times you insist that you can fight them off, weak and helpless you are when they strike.

That's how I felt now. It's been a week since what happened with that woman and, for some reason, it keeps replaying itself in the most unexpected moments. Most of the time I would be on the borders of forgetting the matter when it suddenly hits me like an invisible brick in the stomach to remind me that I will always be nothing but a monster no matter how many times I try to justify the fear humans harbor against things they do not understand. I, unfortunately, fall under the category of things people can not understand. Yet, something about this memory that does not want to leave without making a mess out of my already jumbled up brain.

It's not my fault that I am the thing people tend to fear, I embody fear and plant it wherever I go and whoever I touch whether I liked it or not. And now I have inflicted it on the only person that I thought would make me feel more human than a shell of what a human could be. That memory has also been teaming up with the screams of the woman in the alley, it seems that my mind would, eventually, kill me rather than dying of natural causes. My mind also has the talent of augmenting everything, I can see Louis and he always assures me that he wanted to be this way so he has nothing to be mad about, yet my brain brings up things that could be secretly happening, like Louis actually hating me and being forced to be with me because he was turned by me. If only my brain was the one to die instead of my heart, things would have been much easier to deal with that way.