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Louis’ favourite part of being a villain is watching the heroes set themselves up for failure.
Like, he barely has to move a leg. Emerald did that on his own.
Harry Styles, known as "Emerald" to the people of Danderville, (pretentious, wearing a green suit and a green mask with eyes gleaming like fucking emeralds. What is this? a colour-themed party?), made his dramatic entrance by landing on the protective fence around the rooftop of the city hall skyscraper, growling a raspy "Shadowmoon," and standing up, hands on hips, glaring at Louis, his chest thrusting forward and his stupid, long, curly hair blowing in the wind.
The town folk don’t know, but Louis has seen Harry enough to know that he is the clumsiest human being ever to exist (Louis thinks his hero name should be "Bambi," like the deer), and he knew the outcome way before Harry did. The aforementioned hair only flew heroically for a second before it draped across Harry’s face, and he stumbled forward, planting his face first on the rooftop. There was a pile of boxes, which he tried to grab for support.
Good news! Harry caught hold of the boxes.
"Well, well, well... look who we have here," Louis said, smirking at the breathless man panting at the edge of the rooftop, trapped beneath a fallen pile of boxes (they had dumbbells; who stores dumbbells in a box, and why was it on the city hall rooftop?)It must be mentioned that Harry’s hair was also falling across his face like a goddamn waterfall, and he does look a little cute with that pouty mouth trying to blow it out of his face, but it's not that important.
Well, kind of not important. He is rather cute, though.
"Shadowmoon, honestly, I didn't think you were so powerless that you had to trap me under a pile of shit to fight me," Harry said, green eyes glinting like kryptonite. He looked frustrated, and Louis is ecstatic.
"Oh no, Styles, you did that yourself." He gave him a sidelong glance before returning his attention to the machine next to him. "I mean, it doesn’t matter either way; I have this thing I need you to see, so I would have tied you up anyway." Louis lightly let his fingers glide over the machine. "Bet you'd have liked that."
He didn't know; he wasn’t facing Harry, but he was ninety percent sure that the hero was blushing. "You vile, inhumane waste of oxygen!" he huffed angrily. "Also, can you please not call me by my name when I’m in costume? Secret identity, remember? Just because you found out doesn’t mean you can use it."
Louis clicked his tongue. "I will do whatever I want, Styles." He didn't let Harry reply; he was eager to get on with his itinerary. Louis promised Lottie that he'd be there for the twins' recital; he should hurry up if he wanted to be there on time. "Look," he said, pointing to the machine. It was huge, with one end shaped like a gun and a large screen attached to the middle. "That's my new baby."
Harry's steely gaze did not waver, nor did he respond. Louis sighed. "I'd expect more enthusiasm from my audience, but you aren't exactly the most enjoyable person, are you? That's fine." He grinned. "You will soon. Because this baby can detect emotions," he says, patting the machine. It is connected to several drones, all crafted by me, the pure genius, and they are flying all over the place. This machine connects to your brain. It can read your thoughts and, with the help of my drones, display the location of the people you feel most strongly about on this screen. And I, the ever-intelligent villain that I am, am going to use that to find out about your one true love, and finish them off right in front of your eyes." Louis looked at Harry, who was pale and still. "Fun, right?"
There was a moment of silence. Harry gulped. "You probably shouldn't do that."
Louis pouted. "But where's the fun in that?"
The hero seemed to have grasped the seriousness of the situation, and he started wriggling, trying to push away the boxes. "Don't you dare, Louis, I'm serious--"
"Oops, too late." He pressed a button, and a bright yellow light shot from the machine and hit Harry on the forehead. He screamed loudly.
"Wait no-" The machine beeped, and Louis gleefully turned towards the screen, an evil smile hanging from the corners of his mouth, curious about the person who would appear on it.
And the smile dropped.
The machine was showing him. Standing on the rooftop. Staring at the very same machine.
"What the fuck?" He turned toward Harry, perplexed.
Harry was staring at the screen, his face bright red. "I can explain."
"Oh, I am delighted to listen to you this one time," Louis said, his voice teetering dangerously low and unstable. For some unknown reason, his heart was suddenly beating a mile per second.
(Scoff. He just accidentally forced a cute boy to confess his feelings, and his heart is beating fast for unknown reasons. Sure, pal.)
"It's just... it's not — I don't," Harry stammered, trying to make sense but clearly giving up, and sighed. "You're just so... passionate about what you think is right, and nobody really talks to me except for Niall, and he's not... well, he's different, and you're you, and I kinda get lonely sometimes, but you're always there, you know?" He scrunched his nose. "Even if it's to hurt me. I’ve seen you this year more than I have seen my own mother. Being a hero isn’t easy, and me being me, it’s even harder, but you’ve never treated me like I’m not a superhero. And you're funny, like I shouldn't have laughed when you called that old man a "stuck up beef dick," and I feel bad, but it is kind of funny, and you're really hot in that suit, and I'm sorry, but your ass is to die for, okay? I know I shouldn't, but—I don't even like you like that! Well, I do, but... it's not-"
Louis’ mouth fell open, aghast. "You’re in love with a villain? With me, of all people?"
"Hey!" Harry pouted, sounding...offended? "I’ll let you know I have great taste in men."
"But I’m a villain!" Louis exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I’m the bad person. You’re the good one!"
"You are not a bad person!" Harry shouted. "Yes, you cause quite a lot of chaos for the police and the government, and yes, you flip your middle finger to almost every passing person, but you aren’t evil. I’ve seen you visit the orphanage every Saturday, I’ve seen you give your own food to people on the streets. I’ve followed you to the moon and back, Louis William Tomlinson. For research purposes, of course." He coughed. "Why do you think I haven’t caught you yet? You don’t hurt other people for the sake of hurting people. You just hurt... me, but I figure that’s because I work for the government. And also because you can’t stand me, I suppose."
"I was going to kidnap the person you love and finish them while you were watching, remember?"
"Oh, come off it; you’re not going to kill yourself now, are you? You were just trying to scare me." Harry scrunched his nose distastefully. "And trying to snoop about my love life."
"Says you, Mr. I-followed-you-to-the-moon-and-back."
"That was for research purposes!"
"Of course it was."
"The point is," Harry said, with a hard tilt to his tone, "that you’re not evil. Kind of like an anti-hero. You know." He cleared his throat. "It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me" sort of person. Drama personified."
"You are drama personified! You literally fell on your face trying to make a dramatic entrance." Despite his bewilderment, Louis couldn’t help the smile that was forcing its way out. "Also, Taylor Swift? Really?"
Harry shrugged. "I like her."
Louis stared at him. He didn’t understand; he didn’t get how Harry could talk about him like he was the sun. Didn’t get how Harry could think that when there were wanted posters all over the town with Louis’ face on them and the news mentioned his name every other night for another government heist or a crime he didn’t commit. Harry, the sweet boy who has all the goodness in the world. The prettiest boy Louis has ever seen thinks that Louis is good. Clumsy Bambi. Louis’ clumsy Bambi.
(He might have broken his brain.)
(He might also be a little bit in love.)
"I—" He blinks. "I don't... know what to say."
Harry laughed. It sounded like tinkling bells to Louis. (Broken brain, remember?) "Have I rendered you speechless, my darling?"
Louis wasn’t blushing. Not in the slightest. "Why are you talking weird?"
"Sorry, do that when I’m nervous," Harry mumbled, laying his head on the floor. "My back hurts, I’m stuck under a stupid pile of shit, I just confessed my feelings to this boy I might possibly like a lot, and all he’s done since then is ramble random things. Pardon my nerves, they’re under a lot of pressure."
Which, yeah. Fair enough.
Louis’ watch suddenly started beeping. "Twins’ recital, twins’ recital, twins’ recital..."
"Shit, I’ve got to go." He turned it off and hastily put on his mask, which, he didn’t remember removing. "I have to go. Next time, Bambi."
"Wait!" Harry sounded panicked. "Louis! Help me out first!"
"I’ll see you later, curls. Have a nice day!"
"Shadowmoon!"
"I might give you a call later. No promises though!"
"Louis, don't-- "
But Louis was already gone.
Harry sighed. "-leave."