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Summary
Their were thousands just like him, and he could be easily replaced. Easily dropped off ‘like the garbage you are’ in front of the crummy shelter he was bought from.
Easily bought by someone much worse, much meaner, “you really think I’m that bad to you? Wait until someone else gets their hands on you”. He never knew kindness, but he’d only heard that he could have it worse, and he’d rather have this than something more. Sure, he was lucky, because just like the terrible man told him, “somebody else could bend you over a table and have you, even if you hate it, and I could but you’re just fucking lucky”. Patches of thinning fur on his tail wasn’t so bad, as long as it wasn’t worse. There would be nights when he’d be beaten to all hell, lips bleeding and ears ringing, wrists bruised and sore, his owner left only with scratches up his arms from Louis fighting him off. But it could be worse. That’s what he thought and that’s what he had to live by. Because if he didn’t, what else would he have?
-Louis is a hybrid who doesn't know there's better to life. Harry doesn't know exactly how to help but he's trying.-