Our Possession

32

"You cant ignore me forever."

Louis rolled his eyes and flipped through the channels, still not acknowledging Harry's presence.

Harry sighed. "C'mon, Babe... I got you presents."

"You can't buy my love." Louis threw the remote at Harry.

"But I bought you so many things!"

Louis scoffed and turned back to the television. He wasn't actually interested in the program he just wanted to ignore Harry and the remote was too far away.

Harry sighed and leaned back into the couch, looking at Louis' profile. "What will make you happy?"

"Nothing, my life is terrible."

Harry stared at Louis, his eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to ignore the man, and his clear blue eyes glared at the tv. Harry remembered the time when he was Louis' favorite (or at least the time he thought he was.) "What if I... take you out?"

"I'm listening."

---

"It's been a while boys."

Edward glanced at Marcel and nodded, leaning back into the brown leather seat of the office. "It has, we've been... occupied."

"So it seems you have been."

Edward frowned at his chuckle, but didn't do anything to stop the obvious assumption that his father made.

"How is the boy then?" Desmond leaned his elbows against the desk, arching a brow when neither of his sons decided to answer. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"N-No!" Marcel blurted, blushing after at his outburst. "L-Louis is fine."

Desmond nodded slowly and studied his son's faces. "Okay, that's good... now I'd like to thank you boys for watching him, and send my thanks out to Harold as well, it's a shame that he's sick."

"Of course, Father. It wasn't a bother at all," Edward finally spoke up, clearing his throat after.

"I bet it wasn't, I've seen pictures of the lad," Desmond chuckled again and clicked his pen. "It's too bad I wasn't here to see him when you first got him, I came back from New York as soon as I could."

Edward and Marcel frowned and glanced at each other, unsure where their father was taking the conversation.

"The point is," Desmond began, twirling his pen around, "I'm back now, and I think it would be best for me to take him off of your hands. I'm sure he's worn out, especially with the three of you."

"Father... I-I don't think-"

"It isn't a suggestion, Marcel." Desmond frowned, his previously relaxed green eyes turning dark. "It's an order."

"Is that what you wanted us to come in here for?" Edward asked, the venom in his voice clear as day.

"Yes actually," Desmond responded simply, "You almost lost him when the Tomlinson's broke into your house, and I don't want your incompetence to ruin the plans I have for him."

"We are very competent, Father. I don't understand why we can't continue to watch over him," Edward gritted out, it was becoming hard to keep his patience.

"You're proving to me right now that you can't watch over him, Edward. Whatever feelings you have for this boy are clearly strong enough to make you defy your Father, and I don't like that," Desmond raised his voice, clearly irritated that his son was not accepting his order. "You're proving that you're beginning to like this boy. Am I right?"