Burning Desire - Lana Del Rey

Harry doesn't know why he denied Louis' proposal to show him the restroom. He just remembers gently pushing the Donna away when he announced where he was going.

"You might get lost, darling. Let me show you where it is."

"It's fine," Harry stepped away, looking away from Louis' pout. "Wouldn't want to drag you away from your own party, baby." He tags on the nickname.

Louis' cheeks flushed a pretty pink. "Don't go alone."

Harry smirked, "Babydoll, let me do this. I'm a tough cookie." Then, he walked away, listening to Louis' amused giggles fade.

The building reserved for Louis' party was ginormous. The ceilings were high, elegant lamps and realism style paintings hung on the walls in a long hallway. Each depicting a man clad in purple velvet wearing white gloves and holding a gold cane. Harry passes and observes each painting, in one the man is standing on a pedestal, in another he sitting in a red throne, and another he is standing by a fireplace and in the rest, he is doing other poses. He had defined features hidden in washes of pale pink and light tans. His eyes were the same in every painting, striking blue, an icy blue that brought goosebumps up Harry's arms.

"Ambrosiano "Agro" Tomlinson, father of La Puissance, or should I say the father one of the three founding families."

"Sorry?" Harry turns, seeing a man clad in black. He had brown eyes, thick eyebrows and a scar on his top lip that stretched to one of his nostrils. Harry recognized him as one of the men who were staring at him earlier.

"Mafias have been around for ages, but surely you know that." His accent was heavily American, sounded like it was from Brooklyn to be exact. "He was a business man, an investor and fell into the hands of dangerous wealth. It all started when he made a name for himself in New York and Chicago in the 20s, putting his money to good use and manufacturing alcohol for himself and his fellow businessmen in the city."

Harry cautiously steps back to keep a distance between him and the man.

The man stares longingly at the painting, he smiles with only one side of his lip lifting. "He ruled a third of Italy and Russia, half of New York and Mexico, and nearly all of Paris in the late 1930s. Could do more with the snap of his fingers than any man other than the president of the United States at the time."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry criticizes, "If you will excuse me, I have to use the restroom." He tries to walk past the man but he lifts an arm.

"You know why his paintings are in every room in this goddamn building?" The man turns to him, eyebrows knitted tightly and teeth clenched.

Harry hears footsteps behind him and sees men in black suits come down the other end of the hallway. He stiffens his posture and squares his shoulders, he can sense the tension is rising.

"This building used to be where he lived, he ruled here, he killed here, he died here. The father of one of the infamous Ambrosiano mafia." He smirks when Harry looks confused. "Never heard of it? Why don't you ask around, hm? See what La Reine, Argo's grandson, is hiding behind La Puissance. Ask him if the Ambrosiano family rings a bell."

"I'm not asking him anything." Harry was taller than the man, but he was outnumbered. "You're just wasting my time."

The man laughs as if he's just heard the funniest joke in the world. He looks around at the other men, they're all smiling. Harry gulps.

"Wasting your time, hm? Like how you wasted years of my life when you put me in fucking prison." He fumes. "Don't recognize me?"

Harry stays silent, he's arrested so many people and put a good portion of them away. He couldn't pin this man's face onto a name, not one he's seen recently anyway. He gasps when his arms are yanked behind his back, he roughly shoves them off, only for a fist to slam into his face.

"I've been waiting years to do that," the man is giddy, jumping up and down as Harry is grabbed again. "Utterly bizarre how you are here at La Reine's birthday. I have to admit, I am slightly crossed you are his date."

Harry sways in the grip of two men, they squeeze his arms behind his back and he can only shake away the dizziness in his head.

"I was planning on getting to know him a little better tonight," that has Harry's head shooting up. "Fulfilling that Don role would be good for my gang, I think I'd be a good leader. Right?" He gets murmurs of agreement in reply.

Harry glares at him, lips twisted in a scowl.

"Oh, that perks your interest, doesn't it?" The man tilts his head, watching the blood drip from Harry's nose. He pulls his fist back and lands another punch to Harry's face. "The thought of me ruling La Puissance alongside the beautiful Donna?"

"La Reine is quite the eye-candy. A dream who can end you with a swift kick, I'd kill to put a ring on his finger."

Harry spits out the blood pooling in his mouth. He blinks his eyes slowly. "Louis would never marry you."

The man steps closer, gripping Harry's neck tightly. "You call him Louis, the disrespect." He scoffs. The air can't reach Harry's lungs, his eyes pool with water and he feels a heat climb up his neck and to the apples of his cheeks. The man squeezes harder and the lights fade into white through Harry's blurry vision. "He is La Reine to me and everyone, including you."

"I would argue that he gets the opportunity to call me by my name." A high creamy voice aided with a heavy French accent rings.

It was comical. The man falling back as if he'd been shot. He staggards into the other men and Harry feels the blood return to his arms when he is quickly released. He gasps for air. Harry is hunched over, his hands braced on his knees and the blood from his nose drips down his chin. He felt awful. He can faintly hear the click of Louis' heels on the floor as the Donna steps closer, the man and his followers stand straight but cower.

The man puts a kind smile on his face. "Good evening, Ma Reine. Happy birthday."

Harry feels a small hand trail up his back, to the nape of his neck. Louis laughs. "Do you think I am blind, Aria?"

The man, Aria gulps and runs his hands down his suit. "No, Ma Reine."

"Thank you," Louis' fingernails scrape over Harry's scalp soothingly, drawing the man to stand upright. "Unless you want a bounty on your head or my heel in your throat," Louis hisses, his short frame doing nothing in contrast to his daring and powerful aura, "then, I suggest you apologize to him before I cut all ties with you and make your gang the scum of the streets again."

The rage behind Aria's eyes is suffocating like he had his hands wrapped around Harry's neck again. The man licks his lips, wiping the blood off his hands. "I hold your words high, Ma Reine, but I will not apologize to a pig."

"I am not a pig," Harry's voice is raspy, he coughs into his hand. He looks at the man, there are a few feet between them but his anger radiates chilling energy. "If I were one, don't you think this place would have been raided by now?"

"I wonder what the rest of your guests would think of your plus-one and his true identity." Aria wonders and crosses his arms.

Louis takes long strides to Aria, eyes lowered into slits. "Are you threatening me?"

"I respect you far too much to threaten you," Aria says dreamily. "Sweet Ma Reine, you have no clue how much I value you." The Donna doesn't flinch, he doesn't blink when Aria reaches up to cup his jaw. Harry, on the other hand, was livid.

"Why waste your time with a pig like him, hm? It is unlike you to share your life with someone who is a..." Aria trails off, eyes flickering to Harry who had his hands clenched by his sides, "who is a liability."

They all stand there like statues. The men behind Aria watching the exchange with wide gazes, Louis and Aria holding strict eye contact, and Harry fuming at the other end of the hall. How dare Aria speak to him like that, speak to Louis like that, and touch Louis?

"Mr. Aria," Louis slowly removes his hand, "firstly, know where you stand. You are in no place to speak to me in such a way with underlinings of spite. You are in no place to speak to Harry in that tone with those words. Secondly, do not touch me." The Donna calmly warns. "Now, you and your men will apologize to Harry and leave the premises. We will meet again to discuss where we stand in our deal after your little stunt."

Harry winces. "Ow."

"Sorry, Daddy." Louis frowns, gently cleaning the small cut on Harry's lip. "Aria is lucky I didn't shoot him where he stood." The Donna was sitting on the counter of the restroom, with Harry standing between his legs. The agent's fingers dug into his thighs whenever he felt a jolt of pain.

"I'm surprised you didn't, felt your gun when we were dancing." Harry laughs lightly but groans when Louis presses particularly hard on the slit in his lip.

"Did you also feel my blade?"

"What?"

Louis lifts up the opposite side of his gown, the side without the slit, revealing a black garter and a shiny gold knife nestled in a holster. "My gun is on the other side. It is easier to grab that way."

Harry licks his lips at the sight of Louis' upper thigh, he felt desperate. "I don't have my gun."

Louis quirks a brow. "You don't?"

"No," Harry shakes his head. "You distracted me quite a lot at the hotel, I barely dressed myself."

"Here," Louis reaches under the slit and pulls out a small silver handgun etched with swirls. It shined in the white light. "To prevent a situation like before."

Harry slowly takes the weapon, tracing his fingers over L.R.. It was so tiny, it fits into the palm of his hand, no doubt did it pack the heat. He slots it into his pocket and looks at Louis from under his lashes. "Thank you."

Louis smiles, scratching Harry's jaw. "Can't have you get beat up again, can I?"

"I need to train more." Harry murmurs. "A single punch nearly knocked me out. That is appalling."

"We can train together," Louis suggests, he bites his lip while his hands disappear under Harry's suit jacket. Even though the fabric of his shirt, Louis could feel his hard muscles. Harry was fit as hell, Louis just liked to look at him sometimes. Admire him. "I'll have to warn you, just because I like you doesn't mean I'll go easy on you. I fight to win, weaknesses aren't welcomed in any form in the gym."

"Are you trying to scare me, doll?" Harry massages Louis' thighs, loving the thickness between his fingers. "Trying to fool me maybe. Instill a little fear before we go into the ring."

"Fear can be a weapon as much as it can be a weakness."

"Is that so?" Harry enjoyed this playful moment with the Donna, such a breath of fresh air after getting pummeled in the face. "I'll take that into account. Surely you won't hurt me too bad, babydoll."

Louis giggles. "I might give you a little bruise or two, maybe make you bleed."

It was inevitable for Harry's pants to tighten when he was this close to Louis. With their noses just brushing and hands caressing each other's bodies in the dim restroom. He awkwardly shifts to relieve the tension in his slacks.

"I never got to finish my magic trick. It involves you, darling."

Harry quickly kisses Louis' cheek, very delicately. "From when?"

Louis blushes. "When I let you arrest me."

He says it like it was a gift from him to Harry for the agent to put him away in a holding cell for a night before being pestered with questions.

"Oh," Harry slouches. That day seemed so long ago, Harry felt like a different person now. He was exploring Louis' life, living it, experiencing the Donna in an intimate way. It was all new to him and he couldn't get enough, he was addicted to the thrill and the intensity of Louis. "Tell me your trick, doll."

Louis leans back on his hands, rolling his head around to work out the dull ache. "You are Harry Styles. Born February first. It took you about seven years to become a special FBI agent and you first started out in New York. You moved to Los Angeles three years ago, and visit your mother and sister in London every two to three months and call them every day." Louis was always tranquil whenever he slipped into his fierce Donna persona.

"I can tell that you forgot to call them since you've arrived in Paris. I assume with everything that has been going on, the thought of calling them seemed to slip your mind." Louis leans back on the mirror and doesn't break eye contact. "The beautiful city of Los Angeles 'called to you'. Well, that's what you claim anyway. I know that during the time in New York you made friends but you also made enemies."

"This one particular man, known for a large number of murders in New York, was just one face-less person you could not catch. Always one step behind, Agent Styles." Louis' voice was hard, his French accent ringing out into the air. Harry's breath halts, his hands freezing on the Donna's thighs. "You were fine until he began threatening you, and then your family. Which is why you call and visit them so often."

There was not anything behind Louis' eyes. No curiosity, no sympathy, just blue. "You're scared that one day, that man is going to come back and your family won't be around to answer your call."

"You are too preoccupied with me, darling." Louis whispers, finally an emotion hinting on his face. It was sympathy. "I know you want me, and you are in between two extremes. I cannot make you choose now, so I believe you should equally maintain both sides of your life. Me, La Puissance, our deal, and your profession, and friends and family." Louis gently touches his chin. "If you focus too much on one, you will forget the other. You may lose both if you are not careful."

NOTE: it took me six hours to write this, it's 3am. i am so sorry if it's bad, i would have waited until tmrw (aka after i sleep for a bit) to reread this chapter and make it better but i promised an update, here it is. i hope the next one is good. thank you. thoughts?