Amour

Chapter 7

Harry's POV

I exhaled deeply and hesitantly entered the kitchen. Seeing Louis casually conversing with my parents in my kitchen was making me sweat like a sinner in church. There was no knowing how this dinner would go. It could either be a complete catastrophe or possibly a minor catastrophe, but I sincerely doubted any good would come from it. "Ah Harry just in time." My mother chirrped as she carried the last dish to the table. I tried to smile but it turned out more like a grimace. I slowly made my way to the table. 

Of course Louis's plate was set right next to mine. It's almost as if my parents were purposely torturing me. Louis was already seated and starring up at me expectantly. "Come on now, I won't bite." He grinned at me. I rolled my eyes and yanked the chair out before sitting down. 

I was surprised neither of my parents wanted to sit next to their new best friend. They could hold hands and sing some lovely church hymns. I wanted to vomit at the thought. It was almost disturbing how well they were getting along. Especially considering a week ago my father would'nt even waste his time looking at someone like Louis. For a man of the church that accepts everyone, he sure was judgmental. I impatiently drummed my fingers on the table, waiting for my father to begin grace so we could get this awful dinner over with. I could barley handle my parents or Louis alone on a good day, so having them in the same room was just asking for disaster. 

"Let's bow our heads in grace, shall we?" My father began. I let my head fall and my eyes slide shut. I tended to zone out during his nightly grace, hearing the same boring crap was quite tiresome. One can only endure the same spiel about blessings so many time before wanting to put a fork through their eye. 

However, I would listen to that same, boring prayer many times over if it meant I didn't have to go through what happened next. 

In the midst of his tedious grace, the hairs on my neck stood up and my eyes shot wide open. Not because after hearing my father's oh so moving words for the thousandth time, they finally spoke to me, but because of the warm hand placed on my knee. My head snapped up and I turned to look at the culprit. Louis's head was still bowed and his eyes were screwed shut but there was a devious smirk playing at his lips. Almost as if he could feel my eyes on him in that moment, he gave my knee a gentle squeeze. I tried to nonchalantly move away but his grip was too tight. I swallowed hard and tried to focus on my father's words, but like always my mind was too preoccupied with the demon next to me. 

I began to relax as we neared the end of grace. That is until I felt his hand begin to trace random patterns on my knee. His light fingers left a blazing, fiery trail behind them with every delicate touch. They slowly began drifting downwards, making me tense ever more. I took solace in the fact that any second now grace would be over and Louis would be forced to retract his toxic touch. 

In all my years of listening to my father drone on and on I had never been this thankful to hear those magic words. "...in Jesus' name, Amen." 

I let out a sigh of relief when I felt Louis's hand leave my knee. Thank god. Louis offered me a wicked grin with which I returned an annoyed glare before he cleared his throat, "This looks absolutely delicious Mrs. Styles" He sweet talked my mother. The blush creeping up on her cheeks was embarrassingly noticeable. "Why thank you, Louis. Such a well mannered young boy you are! Hopefully you will rub off on our Harry." She complimented. I groaned and slid further down in my seat. If only she knew how much Louis truly was rubbing off on me, but not in the way she thought. If they knew absolutely anything about Louis they'd surely be showering him holy water and burning crosses in his yard.

 I quietly pushed my food around my plate while my parents swooned over Louis and ate. All this conversation left me without much of an appetite. I stared angrily at the clock on the wall, hoping time would somehow speed up. Tonight could not get any worse.  The whole situation was so infuriating. I tried so hard to be the perfect son for my parents yet they barely paid me any mind unless it was to lecture me about grades or my future. Then in waltzes Mr. Perfect and my parents are acting like star struck teenage girls. Not that I blame them much. He was the textbook definition of perfection. Or at least he seemed like it. Sociable, intelligent, charming, rich and absolutely flawless, what more could you want? But my parents haven't met the real Louis Tomlinson: deceitful, sinful, manipulative, and horribly corrupted. I had to hand it to him, he put up quite the facade.