Chapter 17 (pt 2)

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      In a place on top of the heavens, lays a man who has seen too much

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      In a place on top of the heavens, lays a man who has seen too much . He speaks less and his movements have become ridden , it's that place on top of the heavens where he spends his immortal life for living amongst humans  would kill him but he needs her , sees her and if every night he receives a stab wound it goes unnoticed... when you are  in love the deadly things are unnoticed.

                 Harry chuckles as Louis pulls off his sneakers some droplets of water falling on to the apartment wooden floor - an apartment, he rented this peaceful apartment for their trip to France , secluded them away from what haunts Louis deeply and surrounded them with nothing but each other .

          "Sometimes -" Louis breathes out un clasping his white silk dress - once those began to drop , that fabric in which cases your smooth or abused skin becomes discarded there was nothing left to see ...nothing left for the eye to imagine , he had stripped in front of the older man many times but this time is was different.

       This time there wasn't a garden of England holding them hostage or the many pictures of his dead father , no one to witness something that others would only describe as disgusting - this time they were in France , the place where his mother carried him for 9 months in her womb .

       The place where his father first laid eyes on her and knew that this was who he wanted , this is the woman he was destined to have a child with - it was also the place his mother died as he took his first breath she took her last .  He wanted Harry to understand, to invest himself into a story that could not be told by a simple mouth .

     Look here , where here ?, yes right there , at that tombstone?, yes that's my mother , how did she die ?, ... I killed her  I am no different than you I am a murderer too .

           His nude body could convey all what was not said , the dips of his hips and his small frame ; bruises from the left side up to mid stomach - don't question them for they are from men who simply took , he knew  Harry was different, knew the older man would never take .

      " I think about cherry wine ." He finishes off , striding towards the older man -  his body was a temple , a temple that had been damaged way beyond repair and considered even those nasty marks as something beautiful and who was Harry to deny his beauty.

          He was the artist , Louis was the masterpiece, the singer , Louis was the lyrics , the writer and the novel , the smoker and the drug ..

               "T-that's very descriptive."  Harry whispers brokenly - hands are on his shoulders, lips between the crook of neck and toes on top of his toes - bare and inviting, so fucking inviting .

          What did France think about him ? , what did Louis grandparents vision happening in the apartment standing out of the small city , what did Ryan have in mind when he asked for his son to be watched and loved .

                W-we can't .
Use me , I promise not to tell .
      Louis -
Off , take the shirt off and get on top of me .

         

              Harry sighs against younger lips , picking the boy up as he wraps his small legs around his waist .

         He hears Ryan speak and now it seems further than it did when he first woke up this morning my son , you are going to make love to my son ? No I'd never make love to anyone but you , then what do you plan on doing break my sons heart ??-

             Harry places the young boy on the bed , nude chest against chest  and the cold metal hits against hot skin . Burns to the touch and creates the reality, the reality that he could never make love to Louis - he could never love again .

            "Kiss me ." Louis breathes out . Chest rising and falling .

               You make the decision harry , but promise that you will not hate him in the morning, you will not hold France for your lustful decisions and I will slip away ... I will no longer haunt you .

              France has seen many things . It had a story , those who walk on its cobblestone or swim in it's beautiful lakes , those who hide In bookstores or those who drink as they think about soft chestnut brown hair and blue eyes  as their wife sleeps in the next room , those who sell their body on the corner and those who sing until daylight once again .

        And it has now seen the dead leave a haunted man .

     

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