Beautiful Nightmares (Larry Stylinson)

Introduction

He stares out at the waves menacingly crashing against the rocks on which he is currently standing on. The sea breeze blows his hair back, playing loosely with the dark mass of curls on top of the boy’s head. Gazing out at the ocean and the dark puffy clouds floating above the horizon, the boy squints his jade green eyes.

Peering around for someone that wasn’t coming back, the boy sighs in utter defeat. He drops his head until his chin meets his chest, tears springing to his eyes. The tall grass ripples backwards, the wind howling in despair. The boy drops to his knees and places his head in his hands. Weeping silently, the boy curls his back as he sobs into the cliff’s flowers.

“Why?” he wonders out loud, but his words catch in the wind and are torn away from his frowning mouth.

 ~~~~

Miles away, another boy fights to stay conscious.

The blackness threatens to overtake the young man that lies on the worn floorboards of a ship’s cabin. Blood pours from the gash on his upper left cheek, spilling in crimson rivulets down his striped shirt. Purpled bruises cover his tan skin, leaving spots of imperfection on his body.

Aching all over, the boy pushes his eyes open, examining the cabin’s worn features accusingly with his bright crystal blue eyes. The boy groans in frustration. He knows of his fate; the one he had so desperately tried to fight. The boy had broken his promise and had failed in every way.

The boy’s eyes droop shut in defeat, closing off his view of the wooden cabin. Darkness seeps into his vision, consuming every bit of the young man’s sight with its suffocating blackness. Bony grey hands reach eagerly for the boy, whispering reassuring words regardless of the dangerous and evil atmosphere they have.

But before the boy gives into the hand’s unconsciousness, he murmurs the name of the person he loved; the one who had kept him fighting for so long.

HARRY’S P.O.V

I shoot upright from my bed, shaking with fear. I had been having reoccurring nightmares about two boys for the past week. I kick the tangled mess of white hotel bed sheets away from my trembling body and take a huge gulp of air.

In every horrible dream, one of the young men either dies or is commanded to permanently stay away from the other. The nightmares are depressing without the incredibly realistic graphics my sub-consciousness creates while sleeping. Between the gory scenes of manslaughter and death, my mind had created a dramatic love story about two young men.

I know right? Harry Styles of One Direction should not be having gay dreams. I’ve always been straight and I always will be. But these dreams seem to stir up something inside of me; an object slightly on the left side just inside my chest’s skin.

Think that’s scary enough? Think again, because I know those two boys in my dreams. Who are they you might ask?

Well one of them is me.

The other?

He’s my band mate and best friend.

Louis Tomlinson.