"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}

Stockholm Syndrome, when the hostage develops passionate feelings for their captor. However, Harry was the captor in this situation not the captive. But that didn't stop the curly-haired boy from falling for his forbidden hostage. He was given such one simple job, to kidnap and keep the richest man in Britain, Louis William Tomlinson, and he couldn't even do that without falling hopelessly in love with him. But the chance of Louis reciprocating those feelings are slim to none, because all he hopes for is a way to escape. Maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way, Harry could make Louis feel the same. Maybe, Louis could fall for his captor.

Louis knows about beauty; the combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses. He creates that combination every day in the garments he designs while studying fashion at uni. The cut of the design, the color of the fabric, the intricacy of the stitching; it all comes together to create something beautiful. When the science student with the long legs and dimpled smile agrees to model for him, Louis decides he's found beauty personified. Harry just thinks Louis needs someone to show him how beautiful he is. (please keep in mind that this has not been edited as I am just posting it over here for the people who asked for it)

Harry felt unable to go out and socialize because of the anxiety he felt around people that weren't his mom. Louis felt curious about the curly haired boy that went to MusicWorld every single Saturday and asked for him each time.

My heart was beating and adrenaline was running through my body at a thousand miles per second. My hand wrapped around the door knob, but then I was pulled back painfully by my arm. I was whipped around and was face to face with a pissed off Louis. "Where do you think you're going, love?" He asked, and I gulped at how dark his voice sounded. The sane part of me was absolutley terrified of it, and I didn't like it, but the part of me that thought Louis was incredible was so turned on by his dark side. "Answer the question." He said as he squeezed my wrist tighter, and I winced a bit, but I didn't answer the question. "Were you trying to leave? Were you trying to run away from me?" He asked, and I felt his nails digging into my skin. I gave a small yelp of pain and then he was dragging me harshly by my arm down the hall again. He passed the room that I was staying in before and opened another door that was three doors down. He pushed me inside, and I couldn't see a thing. The room was completely dark. I began to breath faster because I've never been a big fan of the dark. I hated it. I didn't like what I couldn't see. I jumped as I felt a hand on my waist and my breath caught as I felt a surge of electricity run through me. I felt him pull me closer to him until my back was against his chest. His lips rubbed against my ear and he slowly whispered out "You can't leave, Harry. You're never gonna get away. I'm not gonna let you."

It's 1967 and Harry is tired of being that little religious boy who everyone makes fun of. Tired of God pretending not to hear him, he decides to take other reins in secret; How bad could it go if he turned to the Devil? How fast would he answer him? It was time to save the Bible and turn the red candles on. Where Harry is a very sweet teenager who is tired of the way he's living and decides to realise a ritual to invoke the king of hell. Louis is the dumb devil who falls in love. THIS IS A TRANSLATION APPROVED BY THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser