Sorry if this sounds like old language. I saw an old English film based of the 1800's now my vocabulary is horrid.

-Louis point of View-

There was not a doubt in my mind that Harry was lying. I hate Liars. I hate them with a passion. But what Harry was lying about, worried me the most. It brought back horrible memories. Memories of pain and hatred.

Bruises. Cuts and Bruises.

The kind you get from people, Not stairs.

And if that wasn't bad enough there was a defined fist on his abdomen. Red and purple. Some blue already, but these were fresh. He was beaten today. Hours ago. I felt it in my blood.

I pulled an icepack out from the freezer in the back. For the customers who have extreme pain, we'd use packs to numb them. I don't understand why they do it if it's so painful, that they scream.

Harry leaned against the sink as I wrapped the pack in a paper towel to prevent him from being injured by the immediate rush of frozen air. I brought it to the fist and Harry's breath nearly stopped.

"Its okay it's just... cold" He assured. I sent him a sympathetic smile, but it was useless. All I could see was pain and horror in his eyes. Nothing but a beautiful pair of green eyes, filled with sadness and anger. Hurt and disparity. He looked as broken as a dropped Snow globe. I scanned the rest of his body. I longed to drag my Fingertips dragged across his skin. Possibly because he has a better body than me, and also possibly from the urge to soothe his markings with a touch. The marks showed me no sorrow, no pain. Very little mercy was given to him. I touch them all over them, to make them disappear. No simple bandage could heal this type of injury. The damage couldn't be fixed with a simple, flexible, plastic sheet with antibiotic cotton on the inside. No, this was a beating.

Oh so many I've been rewarded with in my past.

I may not say, but I have received them, no doubt I have received many. And my tattoos hide the scars those beatings left behind.

"Harry, how did you fall down the stairs?" I asked. His eyes darted to everywhere but on my figure. His mouth was dry with lies.

"I was.... I was just walking when clumsy old me just... You know... fell." He choppily placed the excuses together. Lies all Lies. Can't he see there is a prominent hand mark on his body. Surely, one does not punch themselves. Surely this was no accident. Yet he gave no courage to admit the beating he had received.

"Now that isn't the case Harry, is it?" I mumbled. He gulped and turns his vision to the tile floor. "Harry, look at me." I

pleaded. His eyes remain the same. I sighed and fished out another icepack when it came to me his tattooed arm was in neglect. I didn't bother wrapping it. I needed to know. I hoped in my head he wouldn't hate me for my next action.

I abruptly forced the iced object over his arm, causing him slight pain as well as immense discomfort. He winced as it came into contact with the area of his tattoo. His eyes shot up to the ceiling as he clawed at his loosely hanging, but tight on the legs, jeans.

"Harry!" He jumped and looked at me. His eyes showed tears he didn't want to release yet. "Harry, who hit you?" My voice was soft.

"Nobody. Nobody hit me-" I cut him off

"I've been hit like this Harry. Who the hell beat you this bad?" I asked. He swallowed thickly.

"Why do you want to know." He whispered so quietly it was less prominent than a pin dropping. I sighed. I didn't know this innocent boy. But nobody deserves this. Not the kind of pain I've encountered.

-Niall Point of View-

"Hey Niall can I ask you something?" Liam asked. I was expecting my next customer any minute, but I didn't want Liam to just sit there. So, I sat with him on the counter as I tuned my guitar.

"What's up mate?" I asked looking up from my guitar into his intoxicating chocolate brown eyes.

"Do you... Do you have a girlfriend or a... boyfriend or something." I fiddled with the pick in my hand. Suddenly finding much interest in its red plastic form. Liam seemed to find interest in his blue bracelet around his wrist as well. I cleared my throat.

"Um, I had a boyfriend a few weeks ago. But we broke up." I managed to spit out. Josh. How kind he was. One fight, that was all it took.

"Sorry to hear that." He flashed a small smile that lasted no more than .2 seconds. "I know what that's like" He sighed. I gave him a look.

"How would you? You don't like guys. Do you?" I asked. Liam tensed up.

"I just had... I had bit of a falling out with my girlfriend a while ago in September. It's funny how I'm still hung over on it because it's the 12th of November. I don't know we were together for a while." His eyes turned to a lighter brown. Not a happy lighter brown either. A very sad brown.

"Tell me about her. Might help relieve that memory or whatever." I could see the pain behind his eyes so clearly.

"She was amazing. She just... She's gone now it doesn't matter." I accessed the situation for a minute. Did she leave him like Josh left me? Or did she move away? It's clear he loved her. But she left him? It doesn't add up. Regardless, the boy stared into space, to far gone to return.

"Liam? Are you okay?" I asked, slightly jostling his arm. At the last syllable of my sentence, Harry returned and Louis joined at the hip

"You're all set boys. Harry's all fixed up." Louis smiled. Louis and Harry did daps and Liam rose to his feet. Still staring into space.

"Liam are you-" I was interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door. My next customer, Cassie, was here. And she was my customer. Not Louis...

"Ni, can you help me with something in the back?" Louis asked. I looked back and Liam was already gone and Harry was walking out, coat halfway on his shoulders

"Yeah. I guess I can now" I sadly stated.