Love Amongst A War ↦ H.S a.u [FINISHED]

*Chapter Four- Losing it All

{Remember to vote and comment.}

*Previously*

"How's what feel?" Harry demanded, his voice emotionless.

"To be a winner, of course! How does it feel to be a winner, Styles?" LaFroye asked again, his patience wearing thinner by the seconds that ticked by at their own leisurely pace.

"A winner?" Harry questioned, crude sarcasm dripped from his words. "What should it feel like?"

LaFroye's face fell, a hard glare quickly made it's way into his cold eyes.

"Just because you've cheated death once doesn't mean that I-"

"Well hello! Congrats, lad." Tomlinson had cut off LaFroye's threat as he strode his way over to the other two. He roughly patted Harry on his back, harder than Harry thought was neccesary. Harry just nodded as he watched the two men converse. His previously shuddering body had calmed and he could finally breathe easier as a startling familiar, velvety voice rang through the air, demanding attention.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Tomlinson?!"

_____

________

____________

*Melon-Head's POV*

I made sure to stop roughly about five feet away from Tomlinson, my green eyes sending him the fiercest glare that I could muster. The cold night air floating off the Atlantic stung my eyes a little bit making it pretty hard to not look stupid. I had previously been tired and upset as I stood watching the cruel game that partakes a few nights a week at this pier. But tonight was different.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my dear sweet, Melony." His strong Yorkshire accent hung in the air as everyone around us seemed to silence themselves, turning to stare at the scene that was unfolding before their very own eyes.

This group has never seen Tomlinson and I within a mile of each other, besides a select few including LaFroye, Payne, Malik, Stone, and Carr. As far as everyone else knew, we had absolutely never even seen each other before. I'd like to say that we don't know each other, but Tomlinson has made a pretty big and impressive name for himself, which made him just as well known as I was.

Yet what honestly pissed me off the most at the moment, was the fact that he was a traitor.

A serious fucking traitor that I wanted to kill with my own bare hands.

"You're not even in this gang any-fucking-more. Leave. This is my turf." I spat back at him, my hands firmly placed on my waist.

"Uhm.." LaFroye's amused voice spoke up. "I believe it's my turf, but do carry on. I am quite enjoying myself at the moment."

I quickly glanced over at LaFroye. My eyes scanning over his face. The sick bastard had a wide grin, from ear to ear. I decided to ignore his little comment and return my piercing glare back to Tomlinson's scummy ass. His eyes still lit up with amusement as he looked me up and down. A devious smirk playing on his lips.

"Ya know..." He began as he took small, slow steps towards me. I didn't back down, instead I stood taller, holding my head up high. We were exactly the same height, a steady 5 ft 9 in (175 cm).

"I think Damien would be proud of you." His icy voice stated, no shorter than a foot in front of me.

Gasps from every body around me fill my ears right before the pounding in my chest has the time to reach them.

A sharp pain shoots through my chest as I'm reminded of that night. The night that he was supposed to have our backs. The night that my world was turned completely upside down.