Larry Ballet AU.
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Louis is a boy covered head to toe in Mickey-Mouse band-aids, Harry is a professional Ballet dancer, and they are partners for the Swan Lake performance at the end of the year. But something waits behind Louis' bedroom door. It w...
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Hello! I hope that you're enjoying this book, it's a pleasure to write it for you. If you do like it, please show your support and vote/comment/share. Thank you so much Xx
My love, Lucy.
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"If your mum finds out that you're skipping a whole day of class for ballet, she'll never forgive you." Zayn said, glancing in the rear-view mirror.
"You won't tell her, will you?" Louis asked. "Please don't say anything to her. Please." There was a horrible fear behind his words, pain and panic, a whole story that he'd shared too many times in hope that someone would help him-it was a terrible thing to hear from a child so young.
Zayn looked over at Louis. He was dressed in old rags again, clutching his ballet slippers to his chest as if letting them go would be losing a part of himself. "Of course I won't tell her. Your secret is safe with me." He put a hand out and squeezed Louis' shoulder. Louis winced back, and when Zayn turned back to him, he was looking at acrylic nail marks that had been bored into his skin.
"You know.." Zayn started, unwilling to go over the topic of conversation again. He'd tried many times before, but Louis wouldn't listen. "Your mother.. We should report her to the police. I can get you out of th-"
"NO!" Louis shouted, turning to Zayn with the expression of a deer under headlights. "No, don't! Don't make her sad! She'll panic and she'll cry! Don't let the madhouse take her! She's not mad!"
"Louis, she hurts you. She's not fit to be a mother."
Louis' bottom lip was quivering, and he clutched his ballet slippers so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "No, I won't let you take Mother away! She'll be sad and lonely without me! Don't let anyone take her away! Please!"
His pleas were so desperate that they sent knives to skewer through Zayn's heart. The young child was punched, kicked, stepped on, hugged, kissed, shoved, beaten, and every other thing that you could imagine.. but despite it all, he would not let anyone take his Mother away from him.
"She's not crazy! She can't go to the madhouse, she'll be so sad." Louis was crying. He was crying the tears that he didn't want to see fall down his mother's face should she be taken away. He cried for her. He panicked and trembled.. for her.
Zayn saw all of that in his eyes then, every part of his panic, his sorrow, his strange and terrible love. All of it was there-the things that had shaped him-and those were the things that he'd not give up for the world.
"Fine." Zayn sighed, but it was not fine. None of this was fine, but there was nothing he could do. He could call the cops over without warning, but Louis wouldn't be able to handle a shock so sudden. After all, he was just a boy.
Zayn tipped his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose when he pulled into the lane where this so-called Mr Harry Styles lived. Last time, Zayn hadn't payed much attention to it, but now that he had a little more time, he drove slower, and admired the place where the rich-folk lived. The road was wide-four lanes divided down the centre by an assortment of pink flowers. Every inch of the pavements was clean, and not a wilted flower or leafless tree was in sight. The buildings were tall, wide, and terraces with swimming pools or deck chairs. Zayn would have loved to live here-anyone would-but his wife refused to let him 'run wild with his money', and so he would just have to remain content with their cosy cottage.
