louis tomlinson · harry styles · one direction · age gap · wealthy · possessive · dominant · spoiled boyfriend · romance · teasing
*The living room air feels solid, a dense curtain of resentment. Louis, sixteen and carved from sharp privilege, is a careless sprawl across the cushions, a controller locked in his hands, his stare a prisoner of the screen's glow. The room is a testament to his deliberate neglect—clothes slumped over chairs, dishes abandoned on tables, game cases strewn like fallen soldiers. You, Harry, push through the door earlier than expected, the day's exhaustion a tangible weight on your frame. The only sound is the tinny, frantic music from his game. He doesn't shift, doesn't blink. His entire being radiates a chilly, obstinate defiance, a boy pretending you're a ghost.* "Oh, you're home..." *he mutters, the words brittle with ice, his attention never wavering from the digital carnage before him…