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Harry couldn’t breathe.
He didn’t really need to breathe; the air wasn’t really a requirement to keep his weak heart beating, and it hadn’t been a need for about four decades. But still, the feeling of your lungs threatening to collapse in on itself, and feeling dread settle into the pit of your stomach like a lead ball, were feelings that never went away; vaguely comforting for the sole reason that it was a very human feeling, and nothing else.
As he shut the door, leaving behind a sky dipped in starless black, and flashes of vivid crimson that remained painted in front of his eyes, he sagged, feeling the weight of all that he was, and all that he had done. The horror in dull, blue eyes that had morphed into blankness. The weak cry that fell from the man like the unsuspecting prey he was. As his very life was held in the careless hands of what Harry was, truly: a predator.
Harry scrunched his eyes shut, head pounding harder than his heart was after feeding well. A little too well . He almost wished it had not been beating at all; would’ve taken the weak beating of his heart and fragility running through his veins, as it had been that morning, over this , over this heart-wrenching remorse.
He did not have the chance to dwell on it freely any further, as he was broken out of his sickening trance by the sweet voice of the only thing that mattered; his lover, his partner, his salvation.
Louis.
“Babe, are you home?”
Harry sighed. Coming home to Louis was like being able to bask in his own personal sunshine, but not today. Today, he felt like he shouldn’t be allowed to revel in such light, and yet, immortal as he may have been, he was not able to resist Louis.
Trudging through the corridor that led to the bedroom, Harry tried his best to mask his troubles. Louis was far too sweet, and far too precious, to be burdened with the darkness he seemed to smear where he went.
“There you are!” Louis exclaimed, lighting up from within at seeing him, as if it hadn’t been just a few hours since he had left his side. A smile tugged at the corners of Harry’s lips without his permission; Louis’ radiance was contagious, and he didn’t know how he’d ever gotten so lucky.
“My love,” Harry uttered reverently, at his side in seconds, stooping down to kiss him fiercely, swallowing his noise of surprise greedily, before pulling back with a hum. “Hello.”
Louis tugged at him till he was sitting on the bed as well. A soft palm lingered on Harry’s cheek, as his loving gaze ran over his face. Harry was afraid of what he’d find, but Louis did nothing but smile at him.
“You’re glowing, just so beautiful. Much better than this morning… Love when your cheeks get all rosy and healthy-looking after you’ve fed,” he said, caressing his cheek.
Unfortunately, instead of making him feel warm like the words normally did, today it merely served as a reminder of what he had nearly done. His face fell, and he knew he hadn’t been subtle at all when Louis mirrored his worry, eyes clouding over in concern.
“What’s wrong?”
Harry moved away from the grounding touch on his cheek slightly, averting his gaze. “Nothing, just tired.”
Louis snorted, though not unkindly. “You must’ve been a terrible liar even when you were human, because I am not buying that. You’ve literally just been out feeding.”
Harry winced, but said nothing. Louis’ hand came up to cup his cheek again, turning his head towards him, nudging him to look up.
“Baby, look at me. What’s bothering you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Lou, it does not matter,” Harry huffed, once again slipping from Louis’ grasp and standing up from the bed. He began shrugging his coat off, carefully hanging it on a hook, all while he felt Louis’ eyes on him.
“It matters to me,” Louis said quietly, earnestly. Harry would’ve been lying if he said that it didn’t make him crumble a little. His heart felt like it was being chipped away at, as Louis continued, “You don’t have to face things alone, y’know.”
Harry shook his head, still facing away from Louis. “I know. But you don’t deserve to be tainted by the monstrosities that make me, either.”
“Harry,” Louis sighed, sounding a little hurt, “I knew exactly what I was getting into, when I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you as you are. And that has not and will not change. You possess more humanity than most people do, even.”
“That’s not true,” Harry said shakily, voice almost a whisper, “You don’t know that.”
He hated that he couldn’t contain the darkness within himself. He hated that Louis had a way of worming beneath his ribs and settling there, warm and sweet. He hated the way his eyes were burning with unshed tears. He hated that he was weak in so many ways when he was meant to be powerful, unstoppable.
“My darling,” Louis murmured, sounding closer than before, “tell me what happened. Let me in a little, and you’ll find that I won’t leave. I couldn’t.”
Harry didn’t need to breathe, and yet, he took in a trembling breath. He startled when familiar arms wrapped around him from the back, pulling him in and holding him close. He could push Louis away. He could make a run for it. He could do anything, but he didn’t. Weak, so weak for Louis, so weak in the name of love.
“I- I can’t,” he said, defeated, hunching over. Louis held him securely, kissing the nape of his neck once.
“Did something happen today? When you were out to feed?”
Louis might as well have been superhuman in the way he seemed to know Harry inside out. He nodded, repulsed by his actions, by who he was, and how he couldn’t do anything about it.
Louis hummed sympathetically. “Wanna tell me about it?”
Harry stayed silent. The tear that traitorously ran down his cheek was hot on his cold cheeks. He wished that he could just say what he wanted to without having to say it out loud, but he hadn’t bitten Louis, not today, so that was out of the question. He wanted to bite, needed the comfort , he realized startlingly, but he couldn’t, not today, not on a night where he was at his worst, at the furthest away from humanity.
Louis sighed, the breath hitting the side of his neck. “Let’s get you into something comfortable first, and then we can lie down, okay? And then you can tell me about it.”
Harry nodded. Let Louis turn him around, and pull at his clothes gently. Let him undress him, even though he could’ve done it himself, but he gave in to the coddling. Louis placed little kisses across his skin each time more of himself was revealed, reverently, like he was trying to remind Harry of the love he held for him. Tiny kisses down his chest as he unbuttoned the shirt, a lingering press of lips on his bare shoulder, barely there kisses down his stomach.
Harry looked down at Louis through half-lidded eyes, not feeling worthy of the attention being lavished on him, but selfishly taking it in anyway. Louis’ hands softly caressing his thighs, his sides, his neck as he changed him into softer, more comfortable clothes, was too much; they burned in contrast to their softness, in the way it felt too pure to be left on someone like him.
A monster.
By the time Louis had gently guided him into bed, coaxing him into lying close to him, facing each other, Harry was desperately blinking to keep any more tears at bay. Of course, it was a futile attempt, as they fell the second Louis cupped his face again, looking at him with more warmth than he deserved.
“Darling….what happened today, hmm?”
Harry’s hand came up to grasp the hand that was on his face tightly. He swallowed hard, gaze dropping, because he couldn’t bear to look at Louis when he had to relive what he had done.
“I almost killed someone today,” he whispered.
The few seconds of silence that ticked by felt treacherous. But then, Louis was speaking, as calm as ever, “You did not mean to, though, did you.”
It wasn’t a question. And that wasn’t the point. “How would you know that?”
“Because I know you, Harry. You would never hurt someone with the intention of harm. I see the way you recoil from yourself in hatred every time you have to go out for feeding. You would not kill someone.”
“I could’ve almost killed someone today,” Harry repeated, voice dropping to a horrified whisper.
“But you didn’t. Are they going to be okay?” Louis asked, insistent, ever so patient. His touch on Harry’s face was a grounding presence.
“They- yeah he will be. I left him in a well-lit area within close distance of a hospital… I- I watched someone call for an ambulance when they found him… I didn’t drink enough to kill him, but-”
“See? Harry, if you had not cared, if you had wanted to hurt him, you wouldn’t have done any of that. It makes a difference, love,” Louis soothed, moving a piece of hair away from his forehead tenderly. And Harry didn’t know how he was not pulling away in fear, or disgust, when he himself wanted to rip through his own skin, so he didn’t have to be one with a body that craved blood like an insatiable monster.
“But- I drank too much,” Harry said a little brokenly, eyes squeezing closed, “I try so hard, to- to take only what I need, to make it as painless as possible, to make sure they have no memory of it and I- I still fucked up.”
“And he’s fine. He’s going to be okay. You did not mean to, baby,” Louis cut him off, squeezing the hand in his hold once, “you are not like the others, you-”
“I’m a monster, Louis!!” Harry shouted, regretting it deeply when Louis flinched. The last thing he needed was to be terrifying in the eyes of the one he loved the most, could he ever get things right-
“I’m a monster, just like them all,” he said, quieter, voice breaking. “What makes me any different from the monster that turned me when I was 20?”
“Sweetheart,” Louis said, emphatic, helpless, eyes filled with sorrow. Having heard the tale, knowing it as well as Harry did.
Harry just had the added nightmare of having lived through it, and having to keep living with the memory that flashed before his eyes, unstoppable. The light dimming around the corners of his vision. Hurting all over, enough to wish for death. The sharp pain shooting through his neck. Feeling the weakest he ever had been, in arms that were grabbing him with enough force to bruise. Screams that didn’t even sound like they came from him. The air leaving his lungs, the fight leaving his body. He’d been so helpless.
And then, a pain like he’d never known, as he opened his eyes again when he had not thought it to be possible. Alive, somehow, like a cruel fate. Worse, no longer weak, or cold. But with a ravenous desire that bubbled beneath his skin. Eerily sharpened senses that kept zeroing in on just one thing; the life running through the veins of those in his vicinity. All he could hear, smell, sense, taste, besides the utter horror that flooded him at what he had become when he had been turned. Horror that lingered like decay on a corpse.
“I’m just like him, Louis,” Harry whispered, choking on a harsh sob, the pain from four decades ago still swimming within him, visceral, timeless, undefeatable. Louis was pulling him close, till his face was tucked into the crook of his neck, where he was warm and smelt a little like ash and lavender. The comfort and familiarity it brought only served to make him feel like he was splitting in two from the inside.
“You are nothing like your maker, you are nothing like any of them,” Louis hissed fiercely, one hand wrapped up in his hair protectively. “Do you hear me? You’re nothing like them, don’t even say that.”
Harry didn’t say anything, he couldn’t; tears were wetting the neckline of Louis’ shirt rapidly, and he couldn’t stop seeing the horrified look on the man’s face from earlier. Every little touch Louis pressed into his skin and every reassuring word felt like a stake to his heart, because he didn’t deserve it, monsters did not deserve kindness, monsters did not deserve love, he did not deserve love, he did not deserve Louis-
“You could’ve turned out so different,” Louis continued, voice frantic, imploring Harry to listen, “You were turned so cruelly, you suffered, and yet you somehow retained care for others, you remained yourself. You drink just enough to sustain yourself, never more, never forcefully. You could have been just as cruel, and it would have been understandable, yet you aren’t.”
Harry shook his head over and over, clinging onto Louis, trying to suck in some of his warmth for himself. “You’re kind- you’re too kind, Louis, I don’t deserve-”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Harry,” Louis cut him off, urging him to pull back and meet his gaze dead on. “You don’t decide what you deserve. You cannot get me to stop loving you and seeing the parts of you that are still so human.”
Harry could barely make Louis out with how blurry his tear-stained vision was, but it was enough to see the determination and acceptance written plainly across his face. “How can you love me?”
“How could I not?” Louis asked, hand scratching at his scalp soothingly, “I have never loved anyone more.”
Harry wanted to fight. He wanted to argue, and question, and know for certain. He didn’t, because he already knew. At the end of the day, Louis’ love existed like the most natural, most obvious, ever-present wonder in his world. His answer. To everything.
“Come here,” Louis murmured, once again letting him tuck himself in the crook of Louis’ neck. Harry went easily, soothed by the way he could feel Louis’ pulse ticking. The horror and shame from the night hung over him like a dark cloud, but Louis’ presence was slowly pushing it away like a calming breeze. He tried to compose himself, rid himself of the pain, to no avail.
“Little dove,” Louis crooned, making Harry shiver a little, affected, “you’re shaking. Do you want to bite?”
Harry stilled. He knew what Louis was asking. He knew Louis probably could sense how in dire need of comfort he was. He knew Louis was offering, of his own free will. And yet-
“No,” he whispered, even as he felt the strong urge to let his lips trace the well-known path to the spot he usually bit into, “I could hurt you.”
“Harry, my darling, you haven’t hurt me once in the numerous times you’ve needed to bite. Today will be no different. You know it’ll do you good. You also know that it feels good for me.”
Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, already feeling his fangs coming out at the thought. It was too tempting of an offer; Louis was warm, he could feel the blood coursing through him, and knew how sweet it tasted. And more importantly, he knew how safe it made him feel.
In the end, it was an offer he was too weak to resist.
“So…do you want to? Little taste?”
“Yeah,” Harry rasped out, “please.”
“You only ever have to ask, you know that,” Louis placated, hand gentle in his curls, dragging him up to his pulse point. He dropped a kiss to his head, and murmured, “Go on.”
Harry let the tip of his nose push against his pulse, inhaling, before covering the spot with his mouth. A kiss of gratitude he left there had Louis’ breath hitching loudly. Weak, he was so weak for him . Eyes slipping closed, he bared his fangs and bit down, piercing the skin. A sharp gasp of pain fell from Louis.
For a split second, intense remorse rippled through Harry, but then, the slightly metallic and tangy taste of Louis’ rich blood was bursting across his tongue, and all thoughts were quietened. In its place, all Harry could hear was the loud coursing of Louis’ blood, soft, pleased sighs coming from above him, and his own quiet hums of pleasure.
Harry wasn’t biting to necessarily feed, when he was seeking to bite him for comfort’s sake. Laving his tongue over and over the tiny rivulets of blood that oozed out of the puncture wounds, he calmed, in ways nothing else ever affected him. He only vaguely registered Louis scratching down the bare skin of his back pleasurably, or the way he was encouraging Harry with praise and affectionate words. He nipped and nibbled, keening and snuffling as he did, feeling weightless, warm and lethargic at once.
Because when he wanted to bite Louis, it was always to feel closer to him, to feel grounded by him, to suck up comfort directly from him. And Louis always let him, encouraged him even. With Louis’ blood coating his tongue, and his fangs hooked into delicate skin, he could nearly physically feel the connection tying them together, sharp and strong. When an involuntary moan was breathed out by Louis, Harry could now feel not just his own contentment, but also the waves of satiation flooding Louis.
“ That’s it, baby, you can let go, ” Louis’ voice sounded in his head. No matter how many times it had happened before when he had bitten Louis, Harry was still startled when it happened. Louis’ gentle coaxing had him falling even more pliant, feeling small and safe. In a more sane state of mind, he would’ve been ashamed of the chittering noises escaping him, but he was too preoccupied with the feeling of pure bliss and relaxation turning his bones into mush.
Like Louis could read his mind, he was then saying, “ You sound so sweet when you get like this, little dove. So sweet and happy. It’s my favourite thing.” Harry smiled dopily against the bloodied skin, sharp little rumbles of happiness impossible for him to hold back. The little circles being massaged into his head had him purring.
“ Love….you… ” Harry thought, intentionally, a little spacey. He could feel Louis’ happiness surge when he heard it in his head. Multiple little kisses were dotted on his forehead, and Harry wished he could crawl beneath Louis’ bones, and make a home in his heart. He might have been technically dead for decades, but here, with Louis, connected to him through blood, he felt the safest and most human he ever would.
Despite being tethered by nothing but Louis, Harry made sure he wasn’t sucking in too much blood or biting too hard, sharply attuned to Louis’ own feelings, his state of mind. When he felt like all traces of pain had been replaced by sticky, soft affection and tranquillity, he retracted his fangs, and licked over the bite wounds till they closed up and were nothing but a mark. He closed his eyes once again, licking his lips, kissing Louis’ skin once.
“Good, baby?” Louis asked, sounding so impossibly fond. It maybe should’ve scared Harry, how shockingly vulnerable he was when he was with Louis, how bare and powerless he felt. But it didn’t. He chittered once, smacking his lips, before trying to answer.
“Yeah…feels nice, you’re nice,” he babbled, head still feeling thick, hazy, still wrapped up in how sweet Louis tasted.
“I’m nice? Thank you, as your boyfriend, I appreciate that very much,” Louis joked lightly, laughing a little. It was music to Harry’s ears. Louis was the cure for everything.
“You know wha’ mean,” he slurred, pushing his hands up underneath his shirt, resting his palms on Louis’ pecs briefly. “Sleep?”
“You mean I sleep while you stare at me?” Louis asked, sounding sleepy himself. Biting always made him pleasantly tired and in need of a nap.
“Mmm, no, I’ll sleep too,” Harry retorted, coming back into himself with each minute that passed.
“Sure.” When Harry blinked his eyes open, Louis was looking at him with a mixture of fondness and disbelief.
In response, Harry wrapped all his limbs around Louis, lying halfway on top of him, head pillowed on his chest. He grinned at the huff of laughter that ruffled his hair. Closing his eyes, Harry breathed in deeply, mimicking falling asleep. In a few minutes, he let out soft snores. Feeling Louis shake beneath him in silent chuckles, he snored louder and more obnoxiously, till a stream of sharp giggles burst from Louis’ lips, shaking him with the force of it.
“You’re such a goof,” he chided playfully, pinching his hip. Harry lifted his head to smile at him, butterflies in his belly that hadn’t left since the day he met Louis. He leaned down to kiss Louis chastely, saying more than words ever could.
“I love you,” he mumbled, kissing him once more, “thank you.”
Louis wrapped his arms around him, making their next kiss a touch longer. “I love you too,” he replied, pushing his curls off his face adoringly.
“Now, sleep,” Harry said, lying down once again on the boy’s chest, practically blanketing him. He heard a soft sigh of satisfaction. Felt Louis settle beneath him. Felt his breath slow down eventually, till it turned deep and long.
Heard his heartbeat, steady, like a lullaby. Harry couldn’t physically sleep, but his eyes fell shut regardless, lulled to a state of calm by the rhythmic beat of his lover’s heart.
Louis; his peace, his light, the one his heart beat for.