“But,” Harry protested. “How can I be special? I’m just…” He shrugged, at a loss for what to call himself. He’d had dozens of words fed to him over the years from those above him—plain, subordinary, impure, sinful. Although he had a feeling that these weren’t the words his Leader wanted to hear at that moment. “I’m just me.”
“Of course you’re you,” Louis said with a chuckle. “That’s what’s so perfect about you.”
Harry sat up and gave a sharp exhale. “Sir,” he spoke, barely able to find his voice. “You… you’re not supposed to say that I’m perfect.” He lowered his volume to a whisper, like someone might hear him. “It’s against the rules.”
Louis hummed. “You’re really going to tell me how to follow my own rules?” he mused, looking down at Harry with crossed arms.
“No!” Harry said quickly. “O-of course not, Father, I’m sorry.”
“I can call my best follower perfect if I so choose.”
Harry blinked. Did his Leader really think that Harry was the best follower? Out of over a hundred members, Harry was better than all of them? That couldn’t be true. He wasn’t the best at anything. He swallowed the urge to argue, instead mumbling, “You’re the perfect one, Sir.”
“Ah, yes,” Louis agreed. “But maybe we’re not as different as it would seem.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, looking up in confusion.
Louis raised his eyebrows, like he was waiting for Harry to make some sort of connection. When Harry didn’t say anything after a few moments, Louis spoke again. “Have you ever thought that you could be like me?”
Forever at Your Feet - a smutty cult fic
Dark. Dirty. Depraved. Divine
