Slave for you - Narry

Chapter 7

** Niall's point of view c: **

As I slowly blinked myself into consciousness my senses were attacked with the sweet smell of apples. My eyes finally focused on my surroundings and I could see my Harry pressed up against me. Well at least I could see the back of his head over flowing with curls since he was facing away from me, playing the little spoon. I smiled to myself as I drank in his delicious scent, shoving my nose into the base of his neck and breathing in deeply.

"That tickles." A raspy voice whined in front of me and I failed to hold back my laughter.

"Good morning," I whispered closing my eyes again, not wanting to face the fact that I had to get up and leave the warm bubble created by harry and I.

I felt him turn in my arms and snuggle into my chest. "Good morning." I glanced down at him and chuckled when I saw a slight pout on his face.

"What's the matter?"

He grabbed at my t-shirt. "Why are you wearing this?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him with an amused tone. He was always like this in the morning, all cuddly and fluffy and pouty. I used to act annoyed even though it endeared the hell out of me, and even still I never truly let him in on just how much I enjoy the lazy, dimpled grins he gives me or the way his eye lashes flutter while he talks in his half-awake stage.

"Your skin is so soft and warm." He hummed as he slid his hand up my shirt, well his shirt really, and laid it on my chest. I laughed again.

"Well just say the word and it's gone, your majesty." I teased him, knowing full well he hated when I mentioned his royalty. As suspected he glared up at me but I knew he couldn't be too angry when he released a long, drawn out yawn.

"I don't want to go to class today."

"Then don't." He smiled at this with his eyes closed, it was the same thing every morning. He would complain about all the things he had to do that he didn't want to, id suggest he just say fuck it and sleep in, he'd tell me he wished, then he'd go off and leave me in this damn room all by myself. But I couldn't complain too much considering he always came back. Always.

His fingers were now playing with the hair at the back of my neck that had began to slightly curl due to its long length. "I really need a haircut."

"Hmmm I like it," he sighed as his fingers continued to card through it. "You're always so tough and manly but having your hair like this makes you seem more boyish. It's adorable." I laughed at his lucid words

"Whatever you say Harold," I replied flicking him on the nose. "Now if you don't mind releasing your vice grip I need to go take a piss." He faked a pathetic sob and he loosened his grip and allowed me to remove myself from the sheets. I watched him with a smile as I stood, the way he turned and wrapped his lanky frame up in the ridiculous amount of sheets.

"Hurry back, sweetheart" He called and I froze. Suddenly my vision went white. I was no longer in Harry's room, I was down in a cellar I knew all too well. The fear was gripping me and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Black eyes were approaching me menacingly, I shut mine trying to block out what was coming next. Rancid breath surrounded and suffocated me.

"Come on sweetheart, you know the drill. Be a good boy and no body has to get hurt."

No. I didn't want this, I didn't want to see him ever again. I thought I was finally rid of him.

Harry. I needed Harry! Where was Harry? I opened my mouth to call to him but no words came out. At least I thought they didn't. Then I heard his voice, his sweet, tender voice, saying my name. At first it was as if it had been carried in by the breeze but then it got louder and louder until it was all I could hear.

My eyes shot open and I was immediately blinded by the light in the room. Someone was holding me but I couldn't see them, all I could see were the black eyes. Finally a mop of curls caught my attention and the eyes that haunted my dreams were replaced with Harry's wide, emerald green irises. I clutched onto him with all my might praying that he was real. Tears were streaming down his delicate face and I hate that he seemed to be doing that so much lately, because of me.

"Harry?" I asked needing the confirmation.

"I'm right here Niall shh, I'm right here."

"Don't cry for me Harry." I no longer cared about the horrible visions I just wanted him to stop crying, I didn't want him to carry my burden. If anything the words I had spoken had only made him cry harder. He shoved his face on my chest and his tears stained my shirt, not that I minded I was already drenched in sweat. My body was shaking tremendously and I noticed for the first time I was laying on the ground.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Harry was chanting against my rib cage and my heart ached for him. I couldn't let him know he had triggered the memory with that name, he'd never forgive himself.

"Harry please, it's alright. I'm alright. You didn't do anything just please stop crying."

He sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes, missing a few strays. I reached my shaky hand up to rub my thumb against his cheek, instantly feeling more relaxed at the gentle contact. Harry helped me to my feet and tried to walk me over to the bed but I refused. I didn't want to lay in bed and relive what just happened, I needed a distraction.

"Will you read for me Harry?" He searched my eyes before agreeing, leaving me on my own two feet to pick out a book. I sat my self down on the couch and waited patiently, breathing in out to try and calm down. After Harry made his selection he came over and sat on the cushion beside me. I frowned at the distance and reached over the pull him onto my lap, stopping half-way after realizing how out of line that was. I removed my hands from him and sat with my head down preparing myself for the worst, a reflex I had developed over the years. A lashing never came, just a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up and Harry give me a soft smile as he climbed up into my lap and made himself comfortable against me. I sighed happy and relieved, it always amazed me when he did that. He never punished me even when I deserved it, he just accepted me and took care of me. I would be forever grateful.

Harry began to read aloud the title of the story he had chosen, "Beauty and the Beast." I smiled widely at him, this was my favorite. I listened intently to the tale I basically had memorized but was enraptured every time I heard it. I just couldn't wrap my head around how someone so beautiful with so much potential could give it all up for a hideous monster! Sure he ends up being a Prince but she didn't know that, she put her life on the line for someone who in no way deserved it. Kind of like Harry does with me.

"Niall," Harry turned to me after the story had concluded. "Why do you love fairytales so much?"

I flushed instantly. The truth was I didn't know, something about the way the characters never seemed to lose hope, never gave up on their beliefs no matter what obstacles the faced. Stories like this didn't just tell you that things like ogres and evil wizards existed, but they taught you that they could be defeated with just a little bit of courage. This is exactly what I told Harry and he just smiled at me like I'd hung the stars in the sky.

"Do you know what else all these stories have in common? What gives them that courage and drive to never give up even at their darkest hour?"

Of course I knew the answer but I'd never admit it. It was the one thing I'd never believed in, the one myth that I refused to acknowledge. I'm guessing Harry mistook my silence as ignorance and offered up the one word I dreaded more than anything, it was the only demon I could never face.

"Love."