Hide & Seek (Larry Stylinson AU)

We all go a little crazy sometimes *LOUIS POV* I instinctively react to this invasion of personal space by trying to put some actual distance between us, pushing him back with my hand on his torso. He rocks back on his heel totally unaffected physically. His eyes widen, not expecting that from me, before he recovers and the emerald orbs turn charcoal black almost. He grabs my wrist and his fingers overlap. "Don't-" He spits. "-touch me." "Then wear a damn bell and don't ever sneak up on me!" I snap, pulling my hand back and I feel Hanayen's body against my thigh. "I wanted to tell you that I'm going into town now. You should move your car because it will roll down the hill with the wind and you won't have a way out of here." I step around him. "Fine. I will." He opens the door, steps out and slams it shut so that the sound reverberates all through the house. No wonder those hinges are so weak already. I take my bags only to stop all movement again, I don't know which room is mine. He clearly said not to go anywhere so what the fuck now? I throw my bags back down and the floor creaks, I almost tell the graphite flooring to shut up because my head's throbbing again. I look around the room and find nothing of real interest. I go into the room on my right, one sofa and a static television is all that's needed to complete the depressing space. The piece of sad cloth covering the window is pinned at the four corners with clothes pegs. It doesn't block out any of the sun's rays. I approach the television and try to put the damn thing off, the sound it emits is nauseating. It doesn't go off and I give up all hope on that mission. Hanayen stands protectively beside our packed belongings poised to pounce on the slightest speck of dust that had a fishy motive. I hated Middleston's ghost stories. "Relax, will you?" I tell the dog as I circle the perimeter of the room. "It's just an old, dusty house." Hanayen is taking no chances and does not relax his stance. I roll my eyes and look to the poorly upholstered sofa. I sit down on it and the cushions squeaks as they sink to support my body mass. I rise to my feet when I feel it may go all the way down to the floor. I have my work cut out for me in this room alone. The doorway is undisturbed and just getting to settling back in its prehistoric phase when I interrupt the balance again by walking through it. The stairs are fairly clean, maybe I won't have to do much there. But the cupboard beneath the stairs is open a crack due to the absence of a lock or handle of any kind. I press the tips of my fingers to the door pushing it closed but it just reflects on the hard pane and bounces back into my hand. I sigh. "Maybe this could be your room." I humor Hanayen trying to get him to ease up on the superstitions. He won't. Inside the room beneath the stairs it's dark, gloomy and damp with aged moss. Glorified gossamers form nets on all corners of the entrance and nothing beyond can be seen. I open the door a little further and it echoes noisily within. I try to peer inside but I hear footsteps outside and shut it immediately. Pulling out my phone I lean at the base of the steps creating a believable cover for myself as Harry walks through the door. *HARRY POV* Mother told me to just let him stay with us, we'd take care of the dilemma that arises with him soon enough. Now I understood what she meant by the Town taking the house from us, Mother was right. I was a fool for not listening to her. I get into my car but cannot start it. It won't move. I grip the steering wheel with both my hands until the bones in my fingers are white and visible. I flinch when that voice whispers in my ear, the same voice from last night. Mother. She says I must stop them from taking away our home. I must do everything in my power. "What do you want of me?" I ask through clenched teeth. She raises her voice and I cringe. I was being a coward, she says, I was letting the emotions of these cruel townsfolk get to me. I must go back to being her protector. She asks if I wanted to be separated from them. "No! I love you, Mother. And Gemma is my sister." I answer her. She doesn't believe me, asking for affirmative proof that they still mattered to me more than anything else. Get rid of the Sheriff, she says softly. "Okay." I gulp. My head slams against the side of the driver's seat, my left temple colliding with the hook the seatbelt looped over. I hiss in pain as I recover to my sitting position. "What did I do?!" I demand pressing my hand to my head. It's wet from the dripping blood and I squint to see through blurry vision. Punishment, is what she answers with. Punishment for leaving that manwhore alone in our home. *LOUIS POV* He ignores my well worked-out but immediate position at the staircase railing's end. Walking past me I notice something different about his appearance in comparison to when he left twenty minutes prior. "What happened to your face?" I ask inquisitively as he passes me into the kitchen. He remains speechless and I find it best not to meddle with his wishes. 'We aren't friends.' I oddly recall the statement and couldn't attest to it more than I already am. I wait patiently for his return and when he does reappear before me, he has on a small white bandaid strapped on the left side of his face. I raise my eyebrow in irritation and inquiry not about his injury but rather about my accommodation. "I'll show you your bedroom." He says stepping through the doorway to our right. I thought that was the dining room or something. I take my bags and indicate with my eyes for Hanayen to not leave my side, as I follow the infamous Harry to my new room. This wasn't exciting or worthy of anticipation in the least, but I was curious about this place. We come to a stop outside a closed brown door that seems to be the newest thing in this entire house. "Don't go upstairs." He says uncomfortably. "Ever. For anything." "What if I need to pee? Or shower?" I ask truthfully. He is expressionless. "There's a bathroom and toilet in there. I mean it, do not go upstairs. It's none of your business." "Do you sleep up there?" He stares at me like I'm an idiot. "Look, my job is to clean up this place. I can't do that and get out of here if you won't let me touch anything. Give me a break." He sighs and looks at his shoes. "Don't go upstairs. Before you do anything ask me. Don't go exploring because this isn't a museum. If you order out for dinner, I suggest you go fetch it rather than let the delivery man come up here." "But dinner's after seven." He hardens his gaze from my comment. "Then order early and microwave it." "Can I ask you something?" "No. Get unpacked and try not to talk to me. We aren't friends." He pushes off the wall and turns around to leave. When he's gone I whisper about being aware that we weren't exactly compadres. A shiver shoots down my spine and I rub the back of my neck on impulse and to rid my body of the chill. Entering my 'room' I stand frozen in disbelief at the door - which is profoundly the best thing about this living space. There's a single tallboy up against the wall at the foot of a single, wrought iron bed. A deflated and uncomfortable-looking mattress is laid atop the rusty and corrosive springs. My bedroom back home is Heaven compared to this piece of junk in its entirety. I'm better off sleeping outside on the piles of crunchy and crushed leaves. I dump my bags more carefully than ever before next to the wardrobe, partly afraid that the floor will give way beneath me. Hanayen jumps on the bed and spins around a few times before laying stretched out across the contraption. "Mind if I sleep on you, buddy?" I ask suddenly overly fond of the texture of the animal's soft fur. He barks and it bounces off the walls, traveling in a zig zag until it falls out the window. The room is dull and the lightbulb hasn't been put through its paces yet. I pry the tablecloth off the windowsill to reveal a perfect image of the outside. Lost Lake is visible from here. I pull out my phone and check the battery life. It's still on a full five bar status thankfully. Tucking it away I go in search of a plugpoint to charge the device but I come up dry. I push the bed aside with little effort only to find the wall is blank. The wallpaper is just horrendous with those little roses. I leave my room hoping to 'stumble' across the Norman Bates I'm living with and ask whether this house even has electricity. Surely it does because the television works sort of perfectly. He's not in the doorway, and not in the lounge. The bloody TV is still only projecting black and grey lines in zero imagery. I groan inwardly when I think that I'll most likely never get the perfect picture on that thing. The kitchen. I haven't been in there anytime before this. I abandon the television set only to come across Hanayen whining at my side. I pat his large head in reassurance that he doesn't accept before heading for the kitchen. "Need something?" Harry is at the head of the steps. Fuck I'm getting that boy a cowbell adjusted to an amplitude of my choice. "How long were you standing there?" "What do you intend to find in the kitchen, Louis?" He asks taking two steps down. "I need a plugpoint and can't find any in that pitiful room." His face screws up in confusion. Finally! An emotion that isn't anger or frustration or just flat-out nothing. He jogs down the steps and I notice that he's changed his clothes from the white jumper to a tight black T-shirt and skinny jeans with ugly brown boots. His belt is just an abomination of leather products. He goes into my room and looks around while I stand unhelpfully at the door. He comes to the lower part of the wall near where my head would be if I were going to sleep like a regular person in here. He brushes his fingertips over the wallpaper. He has extremely long fingers. When he finds what he desires he digs into the covering with his nails, tearing at the sheeting until a reasonable white electrical socket is revealed. He looks at me to ensure that I see it too before standing and brushing past me in his hasty exit. I go to the plugpoint like a sailor caught in a whirlpool, bending to fit in my iPhone charge and its adapter gadget. I wipe my hands on my jeans only lightly causing a white layer of dust to formulate on my thighs. Squashing the pieces of wallpaper Harry had ripped off the wall, and rolling it into a small ball I toss it into the wastepaper basket in the corner of the room. I'm surprised to find that I even have one of those in here. I feel that unfamiliar chill again, this time restricted to my left arm. It's disconcerting and slightly more uncomfortable now than before. I rub my other hand over it to rejuvenate some warmth but my blood has already dropped several temperatures and thickened a little. I pull down my plaid shirt's sleeve to maintain the body warmth. My head shoots up when someone knocks on the opened door. It's Harry. Like who the fuck else would it be? I look up expectantly at him, waiting for him to speak first. He drops his hand to his side. "I'm going into town......again." He flinches as if he's in actual physical pain. "I'll be back before seven." "Yeah. I know." I snap and forget to feel bad about it. Whatever that less-cold but not entirely friendly side of Harry he'd personally developed, is certainly gone now on account of my brief response. "Don't touch anything while I'm gone. I don't know when I'll be back." I nod. He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again and turns to leave. I let him disappear into the creepy confines without a word. The front door opens and slams shut followed by the flimsy gate. I didn't fancy being left alone in this crypt. It felt like the home of a gravedigger with the Amityville feel. Harry wasn't protecting or easy on one's heart - especially with all his popping out of thin air - but he was still another person, who walked these halls too. I sigh and get back to my own business. The bathroom is uncharacteristically cleaner than the attached bedroom. There's one white porcelain toilet and a shower section deemed fit for just the right half of my body. The chain hanging from the flushing system of the toilet is knotted at the end. I swing it back and forth but it doesn't turn to ash. Hanayen barks two minutes later from back in the bedroom and my head turns to find what has bothered the creature into moving away from the window. He stands with his legs spread out, head up high and teeth bared. He does this when a threat approached. "We're alone, Hanayen. Rel-" I start but my jaw falls open at the sight outside the window. My blood runs cold, every organ system failing in its mandatory function as I look on at the face of a female. Dead eyes, pale skin and yellow teeth. I blink and she's gone. I'd never let that face slip from my memory though. She was so frail, practically being blown away by the wind. I hadn't noticed the breath I was holding painfully and exhale when I near the windowpane. Placing my hands on the small hook I force it to open wider and look out into the yard. Nothing. I look back at Hanayen who is silent now. Not afraid, but on edge as he will now finds everything contained in this household to be a terror and untrustworthy. I, however, am going to need more than a hallucination to convince me. I jump when my door swings closed, and bounces back to be open just a peep. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. My body hasn't been cleared of that weed from two night ago yet. *HARRY POV* The Blue Oyster is a hang-out I've never cared to attend before. It's more of an obsolete location, an underground happening that the townspeople refrain from acknowledging if they didn't wish to know it existed. Mother asked that I find Sheriff Jacobs and rid this peaceful town of his crooked and mindless authority. I was initially reluctant to carry out the action, for I've never stolen a life that wasn't worth taking under my personal surveillance. Mother believed the Sheriff was shady in his dealings and habits. She was my mother, and I could never doubt her. I had to make this quick, that puzzling and astonishingly talkative Louis was alone in my house. Mother would become agitated if he was her only company for too much long. She didn't take to new faces very kindly. I sit in my GMC with the engine idle and rising steadily in Degrees Celcius as I wait for the Sheriff to show up. I've been waiting at my post for thirty solid and difficult minutes, my focus drifting back to what activity my houseguest is up to that will rile my annoyance on discovery yet again. A brown Honda pulls up alongside mine, it could be the neatest and most expensive car in Middleston if my GMC wasn't included in the class. I get out of the driver's seat and stand at the hood of my car watching the already wobbly stated man approach the door. It's hardly five o'clock. My gaze sets on him as he unclasps the make-shift door handle and pulls it toward his floppy self, the construction of a plan underway. I push my resting weight off the car's front and stride closer to the uncertain leader of this small community, acting quickly enough to grab the door from him. He sees me and his eyes damn near drop from their purple, baggy sockets. He disgusts me with his forward nature, not bothering to aim it at just the opposite sex. If he was as weak-willed a man as I hoped he was tonight, maybe this will be swift and painless. *LOUIS POV* Exploration of the innards of this spooky house is strictly forbidden by the disgruntled youth who owns it. I kick around specks of dust for an hour until realizing that this place is dead-beat enough for the whiskers of a mouse to be heard at long distance. I could easily go on a hunt for further mystery and get back to safety before Harry catches me upon his return. "Hanayen!" I call to the dog lazily draped across my new bed. "Come on." We depart from my bedroom and Hanayen is instantly on intensive guard-mode. It amuses me just a little bit more than it should. I start with that room under the creaking staircase. The door is just as I'd left it, except now I will be extending my investigation. I grab ahold of the head of the dwarf-sized door and drag it open. The bottom brushes noisily on the ground. My shoulders slump, not from laziness or any other accorded feat of mine. This environment feels suffocatingly empty all of a sudden. The once simple, selfish dust flecks are now tumbleweeds undergoing mitosis. I ignore the urge to abandon this notion, and peer into the darkness before my eyes. *NARRATOR POV* Louis didn't feel her imminent presence at his back. He was too ignorant of the town's folklore and stubborn to acknowledge such a worthwhile fact. He stared into the sea of black like he was expecting something to emerge from it. He didn't expect that such a thing was about to touch his shoulder. Gemma's done it before, touched this foreign boy who has invaded their wallowing lifestyle in a guilded cage. He reacted by covering his arm and shaking it off as just a simple chill. She didn't how to communicate with him. Only Harry could hear her when she spoke and though she adored her bigger brother, she didn't like this state of existance. Her mother would shun all opinions such as this, disregarding it as near treason in her will. So she recoiled and just stayed there, watching him go about his snooping. She hoped Mother was still in her room or somewhere she couldn't uncover Louis' current activities. Louis ducked, easily evading a bump on his head as he tried to fit into the hole in the wall. She giggled and Louis' back tensed. She lifted herself off the ground, rising to the ceiling where he wouldn't dream of finding a girl hanging from. She watched him glance around the room suddenly less confident of his motives. His dog did not wag his tail, this was not an interest of his. "Hush, Hanayen." Louis says to the dog. Had he whimpered? She didn't hear anything of the sort. Louis closes the door under the stairwell and Gemma feels less happy about it. She knew what her brother was, Louis living here - even if it was just for a short while - would be to his own detriment. Mother never told her about her 'discussions' with Harry, just that he would keep them safe and away from the villains beyond. She felt the atmosphere change. It was colder, less enchanting. Mother was coming. How could she warn Louis? Would that contradict the so-called morals that her mom instilled in her? She watched Louis - completely unaware of the upcoming wandering entity - as he entered the kitchen. That was fine, she remembered Harry saying it was okay for him to be there. *LOUIS POV* Three spoons, with the same amount of forks, butter knives and straws. That's what was huddled together by a stainless steel cup holder, in the same condition as everything else in this dump - old and broken. I'd already begun compiling a lengthy To Do List for this house and I'm calling it, Bates Renovations. I open the cupboards and find nothing tantalising or even a little enticing to munch on. A bag of pretzels from God knows which year is dusty right at the back of a cabinet, I can't imagine that the Leaning Tower of Harry is unable to reach it. I shut those wooden doors and pause momentarily when I shiver from another gust of cold air. I open the window to let in some fresh oxygen, and it slaps me in the face like a water bed that's been duct-taped shut for years that yearns to burst open and spray all those close enough with water. The breeze is dainted with an odour of decaying plant and insect life, the saltwater lake is recognizable in the smell. "Hungry?" I ask Hanayen who is sticking close to my side. "There aren't any plugpoints in the kitchen." A husky voice cuts through my meditations. Good ol' Harry stands, bandana clenched in his fist, leaning against the doorway. "Don't you have a toaster?" He supports his own weight and turns around in departure once again. The guy is a pain in my pelvis, really. I let him go as I walk off to my room. Snatching my phone and any jacket I whistle to Hanayen as I pass the front doors. It feels like I've been stuck in that pothole for days on end already. How will I ever survive living here? It's 14h00 when I glance at the clock on my phone's lockscreen. Enough time to get some food, give Hanayen his break of freedom before returning prompty at 18h59 just to piss that bandana right off Harry's head. Thirsty's has it's doors wide open when we pull up in front of the stocky building with crumbling bricks and filthy glass windows. Disgraceful piece of crap really, but where else will I get the strongest bourbon this side of the hemisphere? "Hey, Louis." Marie greets me with a smile as she wipes the countertop. "What can I get ya?" "Got any mescal?" I ask perching myself on the bar stool. "Sheriff polished off the last one. New order's coming in tomorrow though so I'll keep one aside for you." "Much appreciated." I exhale. Hanayen lies at my feet less tense and more at ease with this familiar environment. "Something wrong?" She ditches the white rag. "Yeah." I run my hand through my dry hair. "The Sherry got me a new home and it's creepy's main fucking attraction." She laughs and leans closer against the counter. "I haven't heard of a house that could scare you." "It doesn't scare me, it just bloody pisses me off with all the creaking and cold air." "Which house? Maybe I'll stop by with Father Gordon for an exorcism." I try to find the purpose and the good rolling my eyes would do. I do it anyway. "It's that place up on Lost Lake." She visibly closes up. "Styles' place?" "Oh is that the kid's name?" I ask honestly unconcerned. "You've been inside?" "I got my own damn bedroom and bathroom. Wanna trade?" "I like you but that's not happening. So what's it like up there?" "Did you not hear the starting of this conversation?" She pulls back to fetch two glasses and fill it with Thirsty's signature clear tequila. "You believe in ghosts?" She asks unordinarily. "No." I say raising the glass to my lips. "But if they exist I think the ones I'm living with are pretty friendly." She laughs loudly and sets down her glass in synchronization with my own. "Did you talk to the kid?" "Harry?" "No the other one." She jokes and I fake glare at her. "Nope. He walks around like he craps ice cream." "I didn't ask the purpose of the Sherry putting there in the first place. What was it?" "Oh. I was caught allegedly spraying ink all over public walls and now I have to clean up that place as penance." "I don't get it." "The house needs to be sold and it's my duty to ensure it's appealing to the naked camera eye." "Won't Harry be mad about the house being sold?" I shrug. "He is but, there's nothing he can do about it unless he can cough up a reasonable amount of dough." "Poor kid." "Have you seen him?" "He's in here sometimes but doesn't talk. I think he's kind of a regular at Daisy's." I nod. The guy could be fifteen yet he consumes more alcohol than I do. Okay, that's a stupid lie. I'm practically in the Top Five Drunk List of Middleston County. "I better get going." I say standing and dropping some cash on the counter's surface. "We have a curfew." She is highly amused at that. "Go on then. See you 'round, Louis." "Yeah." I call back as I leave the bar and restaurant. Hanayen runs over to the car before my slow human pace catches up, and I unlock the front door for him to climb in. We go to Mikky D's, the finest local take-out food branch in all of Middleston. The food isn't even that greasy when you think about it. I stand in front of the cashier's table awaiting a response from the back kitchen. Mikky himself comes out to serve me. "Hey, Louis." He greets warmly. "The usual?" The usual was: two burgers, one box - yes, I said box - of fries and a Big Soda Gulp. I think about whether Harry was saving that packet of pretzels for a special occassion. "Yeah. Make it three burgers, two fries and two BSG's." I answer. He raises his eyebrow as he jots down the order in the abused notepad and throws the selected page to a cook in the back. "So how's work?" He asks casually. "Got fired." I answer simply. "Wanna work here? I got an opening. Besides, that pretty face of yours is sure to be free marketing for me." I chuckle. "No thanks. Already hired by the Sherry." He frowns. "At the station?" "No. Janitor for that house on Lost Lake." Mikky's blunt nails on his chubby fingers press into the counter. "You got no business being up there, Lou." "Why not?" "You didn't hear? The place is spooked." "Yeah. It gets really cold up there." "No, Louis." He shakes his bald head. "That kid is disturbed, severely. You shouldn't be in his company or in that house." "Mikky, I appreciate it but I'm fine. Ghost stories stopped scaring me when I was Phoebe's age." "She's not up there with you, is she?" "Of course not." "Good. Here's your food." He says handing me white paper bag just a little more stuffed than I'm used to. "If you need anything, you call me straight away. You hear?" "Yes, Mikky." I salute and step away from the tenacious man after paying him. It's still too early when I get into my Chevvy. Just 15h13. Maybe I could work out a deal with Sheriff Jacobs to let me stay at home and just go up there every morning. No. I wouldn't chicken out like I did for almost everything in middle school. I could handle Harry and his sad life. The engine roars to life and I drive back to Lost Lake with Hanayen disappointedly sulking in the front seat. I decide that since I have so much work to put into this house, I might as well start putting pen to paper where that mental list is concerned. The lights in the house are all off except for one. The kitchen.

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