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Hide & Seek (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 1

He was across the bar from her. His dark and neatly trimmed curly hair concealed his forehead and neck; the bandana was so tightly wound that it hurt. The happy prints of nerd glasses all over the fabric was of no relief in reality. Lizzy's best friend, Kendall, noticed Harry staring and told her. "Look." Kendall nudges Lizzy's elbow. "He's checking you out." Lizzy looks up to catch the gaze of an attractive young man with deep brown curls looking at her. He raises his glass at her and she returns with the same motion, careful not to go red in the face. She shoots this alluring stranger a small smile, not indicative of anything just yet. "Go say hello." Kendall butts Lizzy's drink with her own. "What?" Lizzy shakes her head. "No." "Come on, you're twenty one now, Liz. Let loose." "Absolutely not. I have to be home by half nine." "Your folks aren't even at home. Just go." Kendall has been too supportive as a friend, and often it's gotten them into deep and undesired trouble. It was only eight, maybe one drink and a chat with this mysterious guy wouldn't kill her or rob her of her curfew privileges. "Alright. I'm going." Lizzy drowns the remainder of her Bells before placing the glass back on the assigned coaster. She musters up her courage that such a short while ago had not existed, and treads in high heels over to the seat beside this perfect stranger. Harry pretends to take no notice of her, sipping his Jack Daniels like the glass rim was the lips of a beautiful woman. Bottom's up. He toasts to the bartender who refills his glass knowing Harry's never been late or ignorant when it came to settling his tab. "Hi." Lizzy tries to initiate a form of verbal communication but she was nervous. "I'm Lizzy." Harry glances at her from the corner of his emerald eye, only briefly taking in her tight dress and bangled wrists. She had dirty blonde hair. His bandana felt tighter and he let it be. "Harry." He responded. "Your friend is staring at us." Lizzy's head snaps to the left, indeed Kendall was observing their interaction. Lizzy gestures for her to leave them alone and Harry chuckles at their childish way. "Sorry about her." Lizzy returns to the drabs of their conversation. Harry says nothing, holding the glass tumbler tilted just right so that the flow of alcohol was aptly positioned. Lizzy feels uncomfortable, like a cloud mass of humiliation has swept over her. She asks the bartender for a drink like the one she had earlier. Harry takes pity on her, he only had so much time too. "I haven't seen you here before." He lowers his hand with the glass. Lizzy's eyes brighten then return to normal. "I-It's my first time here." Harry smirks in amusement. "At a bar?" "Yeah." She rubs her bare arm. "Really?" Harry really looks at her for the first time. She had big grey eyes, bushy eyebrows and prim features. Her necklace was a single chain with the name Elizabeth hanging on the end in a sterling silver charm. "Yeah. I just turned twenty-one." She bites her bottom lip before frowning over thinking her last statement. "Congratulations." Harry smiles. "Let me buy you a drink to celebrate." "Oh no, two is my limit." "Have you gotten drunk before?" "N-No." "Then you're missing out." He winks and watches her cheeks turn cherry pink. He orders three more rounds of tequila shots, Lizzy had no protests by the third going. She is laughing louder than she should, talking with more detail than required and continually brushing Harry's arm with hers. Harry runs his hand through his hair, hoping to slow down or dispose of the tightening around his frontal lobe. He picks at the edges of the headband. "Do you like bandanas?" Lizzy reaches out to pinch the fabric between her fingers. Her scent fills his nostrils. "Why else would I wear them?" Harry raises an eyebrow at her. "To keep your head warm." She shrugs. He laughs before asking the bartender for a glass of water. "Drink." "Aren't you the one who told me getting drunk was good?" She grabs the black collar of his shirt to bring their faces closer. "Time to go." Harry gets off the bar stool first, Lizzy trips on her two left feet as she rises. Harry's home was run-down, as old as the ground beneath it and surrounded by an open field. He unlocks the front door, pushing past the plastic gate and wooden door. Lizzy grips his bicep like a child afraid of straying from her parent. Harry's bandana was achingly tight now, he yearned to yank it off and throw it into the washer so that he could go to sleep. Lizzy looked at him through glassy eyes, totally zoned out beyond apprehension. He secured the side of her face in his much too large hand, dropping his lips to her level. She brought her mouth up to his instead from the lack of patience. She was twenty-one and she could do whatever she damn well pleased. Harry caught her by her thighs before she stumbled backwards, his mouth hard and unexcited on hers, but she didn't care to pick up on that. Her fingers were tangled in his hair as he hoisted her up around his waist. She moaned like a helpless captor and he smiled. The sound encouraged him. Without initial or second thought he carried her upstairs to the bedroom he so rarely put to use. He missed it. He missed what he did in here. That longing would soon evaporate for he was about to conduct those fulfilling deeds. The moment they spend losing their shell of clothing was hasty and foggy in both their memories. Neither of them would remember it anyway. Harry never used a condom in his life, and who was this brat to alter his way? She shrieked when he rolled into her, unprotected and emotionless. Her orbs that matched the colour of the moon flew open, ridding her of her intoxication. He had an arm on either side of her face, her hair fanning out on his bleached white pillow. He didn't bother to remove her bra. It wasn't long now. He felt it building inside him, his bandana clamping down around his skull like a shrinking sock. He pounded into her until she was screaming loud enough for him to find the pitch satisfactory. He felt her tight and bruising around him, blood would soon arise. She closed her eyes to succumb to the heavenly sensation that overcame her quaking body. Harry rolled her over onto her front and she lifted herself up onto her elbows. He rested his weight on hers to prevent these actions. He was in charge. "What's my name?" He growled, his lips brushing the shell of her pierced ear. "H-Harry." She choked from a rough thrust. "Louder." "Harry!" She dug her nails into the mattress. "My full name." Lizzy let's her tears roll down her cheeks onto the bedding, they were hot and burned her skin. She didn't know his last name. "I-I don't know." She sobbed. Harry's hand stretched to bedside table, Lizzy could see and do nothing except feel his weight shift. "That will teach you not to get drunk with a complete stranger, Elizabeth Hardy." He withdraws the object from the wooden table. Lizzy can't gasp, her air is taken from her by the lower movements of her body. She never told him her last name. In a swift move like that of a ninja eclipsed by the night and forlorn struggles of the foe, the blade came down. *** Harry washed his hands in the bathroom basin. He stared at his reflection like it was a painting he ought to write a thesis on. His bandana held blotches of red now that wasn't there when he first purchased it. He untied the knot at the back of his head, letting the head-wear drop into the pile of clothes in need of washing. His adrenaline has expired, but his victory had not. It had been much too long since he last got to feel this way, he loved the gusto it gave him. It was nine thirty-five at night on Friday evening. Harry returns to his bedroom after a shower and pulls on a pair of grey slacks. His kit was downstairs and he couldn't afford to mess his bedroom. He wraps the limp and pale corpse of Elizabeth Hardy in his white comforter. He bandaged her neck so that blood wouldn't drip all over his floors. He hated cleaning up. His basement was his sanctuary, only during the day though. He opened the door under his stairwell, searched for the trap door on the floor before throwing Elizabeth over his shoulder. She slipped and landed head first on the wooden floor. Harry cringed. "Sorry." He mumbles picking her up and carrying her more carefully now down the steps. The stainless steel examination table beckons him, and he has always been a man of weak will. Unwrapping Lizzy's cocoon he frowns at her open eyes and soiled bandage. "Remind me to be more careful." He talks to himself. "Mom would throw a fit if I kept using her bandages right into extinction." He closes Lizzy's eyes and goes on to clean the crusty gash across her throat. Harry sighs. This has always been his least favorite part of the procession. He wanted an associate of some sort, someone to claim half the promise and half the reward. Three hours later Harry is in need of another cleansing, overheated shower session. He bangs his feet on the Welcome mat, dropping heaps and dried blocks of mud from outside onto the floor. He takes off his boots and tosses them into the cupboard under the steps. "Hamster!" He calls to the whiskered rodent. He knew where Hamster was, safely locked up in his pet cage, but somehow calling to him made Harry feel less isolated. Less lonely. Upstairs he checks on the bedrooms adjacent to his. First was that of his sister, Gemma. "It's raining, Gem." He says to her when she whines about not being able to go outside. "You'll catch a cold." "No, I won't ask Mommy for you." He refuses when she asks whether he'll please make an argument on her behalf. "Dinner will be ready soon." He sighs. "Get dressed because I think Dad's coming home tonight." Leaving his sister to her pink and frilly devices he crosses the hall to his mom's bedroom. She is combing her hair with the brush Harry bought at the flee market with his first pathetic earnings from raking the yard. "Gemma wants to go outside." He informs her. She laughs and he rolls his eyes. "I told her Dad's coming home tonight. Is he?" He inquires after a silence. His mother says nothing, and continues to count forty-nine strokes through her black hair. "I can't play with her! She never agrees to play my game." He answers when his mother suggests playing a physical game with his sister to distract and tire her out. "Yes, Mommy." His head drops so that his chin dashes his clavicle. She requested politely that he stop acting like a waste of space and help in taking care of this family. Harry trudges down the steps to the kitchen, the hollowness of the space under the house was loud and depressing to him. Opening the tap he proceeds to wash his hands and start preparing dinner, just as Mommy had requested. *** The night was hot, and the gloomy air itself seemed to frown upon this puny town is disgust and pity. The weather had the upper hand on mankind, thus it lashed out with heat and easy dehydration on Middleston. Harry threw his quilt away like it scorched his milk-white skin. The television was still on, so he groaned and slammed his fist on the remote to shut it down. He grumbles when the screen goes static and the unpleasant howling of outside activity can be heard. He jolts awake. He fell asleep on the living room couch. He curses his irresponsibility before stumbling out of his lazy position to stand tall and lanky like a malevolent entity in the Styles Residential abode on Lost Lake. "Shut up!" He covers his ears immediately after a deafening screech stabs his hearing. He screams to disrupt the noise and stop it from permanently damaging his most important sense. The screech is high-pitched and feminine, the furious thunder and lightning of a maddened woman. Harry experiences this almost every night, but each time it grew worse. When it seizes he removes his cupped hands from his sideburns, and looks around the room. It's pitch black with no life, but it had a tale to tell. "They won't!" Harry shouts back at the hidden figure in the corner of the room. Mom says the Sheriff's going to take this house away from their family. "I work hard, don't I?!" He yells baring his teeth. "I do more around here than you ever did! This damn house is still standing because of me!" Mom's expression doesn't falter. Harry falls silent instantly regretting his outburst at his mother. He didn't mean it. "I'm sorry, Mommy." He whispers to which she ignores. "I won't go there now. It's scary at night." He protests when his mother demands that he go down to the basement at night. She cackles and he flinches. He had no choice.

Notes

PLEASE vote/comment/rate because I'd love to hear what you guys are thinking. Can someone please tell me what the story looks like? I was hesitant to post it on here because of how the format ended up looking.

- S (@SSTomlinson)

Comments

@Suman98
Can you please MAKE another one I LOVE THIS STORY

Amazing. ...

That_Moment That_Moment
9/18/14

Amazing. ...

That_Moment That_Moment
9/18/14

Only on the prologue, but I love it so far.

@Suman98

Awe :) your welcome!
and...... oh my gosh yay!