Louis' new roommate is shy, skittish, and flinches at the slightest sounds. He's an art major who gets drunk on cherry wine, wears lacy lingerie, and shows up late at night covered in bruises that blossom across his skin like flowers. Obviously something is wrong. Louis just doesn't know what it is.

"you're so small." as if to prove his point, louis squeezed harry tightly in his arms, and harry just scrunched up a little bit, snuggling his head impossibly farther into louis' chest. "my pretty paper doll." and when louis squeezed him again, placing a shaky, yet warm kiss on harry's cold forehead, harry felt his heart feel that way again, he felt love. a soft flutter, that even the most self control in the world couldn't stop. he loved louis. he loved him even though he didn't want to, he really didn't. okay, maybe a little. *** 1ST PLACE IN THE HOLIDAY 2014 BROMANCE AWARDS FOR FAMOUS LARRY STORIES. #2 in Fanfiction #1 in One Direction

I was captivated, but he was all too good at his profession: Harry Styles, Playboy. © wrenadler, All Rights Reserved. (Larry with some Ziam)

"It's hard letting go. I'm finally at peace but it feels wrong." {Under going editing. It's being rewritten from the beginning, grammatical errors are being fixed. Should be completely edited and polished by December}