A Dangerous Game

Chapter 11

"So..." I breach, keeping my words careful and even. Still, Louis' head snaps up and he meets my eyes with almost manic ones. There are deep bags under them and he looks like he's going to fall over at any moment, but I can also sense the excitement buzzing underneath his skin. Behind those bloodshot eyes there's a beacon, and it makes me smile softly to find it deep in the blue sea of his irises.

"Yeah? What is it Harry, I'm kind of busy and I just have a few more details to go over, then I can finally sleep and relax and God I am so tired of coffee but it has to be better than energy drinks cause I swear they always dye my tongue weird colors and anyway, what do you need?" My eyes widen and I bite back a laugh, strumming a quick chord on the guitar and muting it's echo by tapping down the strings. His gaze falls to my hands and he studies them so intensely I have the urge to hide them in my pockets. Instead I just wiggle my fingers, making him laugh.

"I don't exactly need anything. I was just wondering how things are going."

"Oh. Well, the album is finished. I just have to check these scheduling details and I'm waiting for a few ideas to be approved. And that's it! Then I'm done, and I don't have to worry about it for a while." He leans back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. They flicker open immediately as though he's worried he's going to fall asleep. "And then we can go back to your case because we really need to figure it out soon and I can tell you hate being idle and-"

"Louis," I interrupt, putting down my instrument and perching on the arm of his chair. He looks up at me.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't we take a break? Staring at a screen isn't going to make messages appear."

"Well, yeah, but-"

I lose my hands in his hair and he instantly quiets, his shoulder sagging as I gently play with the messy puffs.

"Are you ready to relax now?" I whisper. He hums a quiet response, already falling asleep. I gently pick him up, carrying him to the couch where I lay him down, tossing a blanket over his limp body. His hand falls and hangs off the side, but when I reach down to reposition it his eyes open at the touch of our skin.

"If anyone calls, you'll tell me, right?" he murmurs sleepily. I hesitate, feeling my gut clench.

"Yeah Lou, of course." The lie falls smoothly off my tongue, and the ease of it makes me want to shudder. I had to become good at lying the moment I knew I would be homeless, but knowing that Louis is the one I'm deceiving...I'm glad he can't see my face, because I know he'd be able to tell something was wrong.

Once I can hear deep breaths echo through the apartment, I pick up his phone with shaking hands. The past two nights Louis had been up until the morning, only taking short naps in between. Definitely not enough time for me to go behind his back and call the one person I've been dying to talk to. I don't know if Louis would have allowed it or not, but I've learned it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

I gently close his bedroom door, the room farthest in the house from the open sitting room. Then I dial the number burned into my brain and wait.

It rings once, twice, five times before someone finally picks up. I expected another secretary, but his voice crackles through the other end.

"Mr. Tomlinson, I-"

"Hey Dad," I interrupt. The world freezes as whatever he was about to say splutters out and dies, like the flame of a candle after a strong gust of wind.

Finally, he finds the words to reply. "Harry?"

"As far as I know, you don't have any other children," I drawl, my voice chilled. I can practically hear him flinch, but he doesn't address my sass.