It wasn't that bad. At least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. It could be worse, you could be dead, you kept repeating yourself. You had been kidnapped by two young men while you were trying to get back home from a friend's house —it was dark outside, you should have taken the long but safe path, not cut through an alley—.

Since the second you awakened in that rusty, —old— and dusty —moldy—, basement, roughly and harshly tied to a hard wooden chair by thick and cutting ropes you had realised your two captors were playing the good cop and bad cop roles. The taller out of the two, with his dark brown hair reaching his shoulders, and his sharp green eyes was the bad cop while the shortest out of them, with his short brown hair and his soft blue eyes was the good cop.

You had been tied up to that chair in the basement for two days, then locked up in the dusty basement for two weeks. And, after you seemed to be nothing but desperate to be cooperative, they had let you roam their house with the only rule of "not going near the windows". You had respected the rule until, one day, you heard loud barking from outside and got curious, so you looked out of the window to look and wave at a dog in the street, only to be almost seen by one of their neighbours haven't you dodged in time.

Then, someone —Harry— had come up behind you and grabbed you. And the next thing you knew you had your wrists tied and you were dragged back to the basement. Now, you were crying and shivering as Louis gently tried to lift you up from the floor, your back was bare and covered in red and stinging marks from the hitting of a belt. Your punishment for disobeying. As soon as it was over, they were back on their firm and stern but twistedly caring.

"sh, shh, c'mon.." Louis spoke softly, trying to coax you into getting up from where your weakened and mangled body laid shivering.

"this hurts us more than it hurts you" Harry chimed in, his words harsh and coated in mockery.