The Devil's Angel
Louis POV
Harry, Rio, and I stayed in the meadow until about six, when a text from my mother arrived – a pointed inquiry about our whereabouts. Harry promised to walk me back home. As I approached, I saw the uniforms laid out on the couch: one for high school, two for middle school, three for primary school, and two for daycare. Crap. School started tomorrow. I grabbed my gold and blue uniform, headed to the kitchen for an apple, then went upstairs to my room. Inside, Harry was already waiting, a little girl asleep in his lap. I tossed my uniform into the closet and took a bite of my apple.
“Hey, Boo. This is May, my little sister,” he said, looking down at her with a smile.
I sat beside him, studying the small girl in his arms.
“Does she know about the curse?” I asked.
“Not really. Not much,” he replied, tears welling in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, looking away.
“She and Gemma shouldn’t have to go through this. It should be me. I’m the firstborn boy. I wish I could have taken the burden alone. It was all my fault. I was foolish, and my family paid a great price.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Harry.”
“Harry?” A small voice yawned.
“Yes, May?” he asked.
“Can I go to Gemma?”
“Sure, baby.” He spoke, and the small child vanished.
I didn’t question it.
“Want to watch a film?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the curse.
“Sure. What do you have?” he asked, getting off the bed.
I glanced around my room, noticing all my movies were on the highest shelf in the closet. Why had my mom put them there? She knew I couldn’t reach them!
“I’ll get them,” Harry said, as if reading my mind. He walked over to the shelf, retrieved the DVDs, and sat them on my bed.
“Peter Pan, Brave, Sinister, Mama, Frozen, and Texas Chainsaw,” he murmured softly as I stepped in front of him.
“What do you want to watch?” I asked.
“I’ll put in Sinister, then we’ll watch Frozen,” he said, picking up the two DVDs.
“I’ll put the rest up,” I said, taking them back to the closet.
(I have a walk-in closet, by the way!) I put the DVDs on the bottom shelf and noticed something carved into the wall behind some boxes. I moved the boxes and saw a door with a lock and some words etched beside it.
To the next owner,
This door is locked for a reason, and don’t ignore this warning. I didn’t listen, and I regret it. Please, if you love your family, turn around. If you love your sisters or brothers, turn around. If you love your mom and dad, turn around. Even if you don’t love anyone, turn around. No one deserves the fate on the other side of this door. Turn around.
Sincerely, Harry Styles, age 17.
The second of February, seventeen twelve.
I reached out to see if the door was really locked. I felt a hand grab mine and pull me back, strong fingers tightening around my own. The grip was firm, and the scent – a familiar, intoxicating fragrance – filled my senses. Harry. He pulled me into his chest, his arm snaking around my waist.
“Don’t open that door,” he whispered into my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.
“What’s behind it?” I asked.
“Your worst nightmares,” he said softly.
“Why did you open it?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
“That’s a story for another day. Let’s just watch the movie.” He released my waist, but I still felt the phantom warmth of his embrace.
We went back to my room, and Harry put in Sinister. We settled onto the bed, me sitting on his lap, my arms around his waist, flinching now and then at the film’s jump scares. About halfway through, I drifted off, lulled into sleep by the feeling of safety and comfort in Harry’" arms.
Harry’s POV [YaY]
When the movie ended, I noticed Louis had fallen asleep, leaning back against my chest, his mouth slightly parted, soft snores the only sound. He looked so peaceful. His hair looked perfect, even in sleep. His eyelashes were longer than any girl’s I’d ever seen. His pink, plump lips were his best feature, awake or asleep. He was perfection.
You can’t fall in love with him!
My mind rebuked me. I would ruin him. I’m the Devil, and he’s just a lost Angel. If he’d opened that door, I would have lost him forever. I glanced at the clock: 10:02 pm. He had school tomorrow. I gently lifted him off my lap and laid him on the pillow. I turned off the TV and the light, then leaned back down to the bed. I took off my jeans and shirt. Louis’s red jeans were tight, outlining every curve. I leaned over him, undoing his belt and the top button, then pulled them down slightly. He stirred in his sleep but didn’t wake. I pulled the blanket over us. I gazed at him for a long while, brushing a strand of hair from his face, then pressed a light kiss to his temple. I lay back down and pulled him into my chest. Right now, in this moment, Louis is mine, and no one else’s. Louis is my Angel.