rescue me / larry

nineteen / "I'm sorry for all of this."

Louis sat in his hospital bed and his thoughts were wandering around. He was thinking about what Harry told him, again. Even though he acted like he didn't care about anything, everything was still in his brain, almost like someone used super glue to keep it stuck there.

The thing was, Louis was scared. He was scared everyone knew of his problems and would force him into recovery before he was ready. Louis was scared because he didn't know if the fans knew about everything already, he didn't know if they knew he was in the hospital. They wouldn't give him his phone because they thought he was going to read all those hate comments again. He probably would.

But most of all, Louis was scared because he slowly realised that his problem was way bigger than he thought it was. And he already knew it was bad. It was bad when Louis refused to eat anything even though his stomach was hurting like hell; it was bad when he had to strength to even get up, but laying in bed was uncomfortable because his bones stuck out to the point where every position he could lay in hurt him.

The thing was, Louis realised this now became everyone else's problem as well. Everyone felt guilty for not noticing to the point where they attacked each other over it, and this wasn't what Louis wanted at all. He hid everything, he made sure no one knew so it wasn't their fault. Even if someone had noticed something earlier Louis would've denied everything.

Everyone now had to watch him every day, making sure he wasn't restricting again, to make sure he was going to see his therapist. Everyone had to take care of Louis, and he knew he couldn't perform anytime soon so he also became the fans problem - they wouldn't see their favourite band live, all because Louis let people in.

It was sick because Louis also knew that getting better should be his main concern after almost dying, but it wasn't.

Louis sighed and he snapped back into the real world when the door opened and Harry walked into the room. Louis' heart skipped a beat at the sight of his best friend and he watched Harry take off his jacket before he sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Louis.

"Hey," Harry said, and Louis just slightly smiled back. "I'm glad you don't refuse to see me anymore."

"I'm sorry for that," Louis said quietly. "I know what you said was right, I just... it's hard to admit to yourself that you need help and can't beat this on your own, but hearing someone else say this is even harder."

"I didn't want to hurt you or stress you, Lou. I'm just scared because you almost died and still refuse to recover and... I don't really understand eating disorders, but I want to help you. Whatever I say, I don't mean it in a bad way," Harry replied, feeling bad because he should've realised that Louis was stressing himself over that enough as it is. It was like Harry poured salt into a bleeding wound.

"I know," Louis spoke. "I'm scared, too. I never wanted everything to get this bad. When all of this started I thought I could stop this when I was thinner, when I was happier with myself. But no matter how low my weight got there was this voice inside of my head telling me that I could do better, that I could get even thinner and prettier. And it was comforting to me because even when I was alone, the voice never left and was there for me. And I know this is sick. I never realised the voice was trying to kill me all along. And I didn't want anyone to feel bad or guilty because of that, I hid all of that for a reason. I didn't want you and Zayn to argue."

Louis looked down and played with his duvet, tears burning in his eyes. But they didn't phase him anymore, tears were like an old best friend that comes to visit every now and then to Louis. This whole situation was stressing him out, and somehow he wished this all was a dream and he woke up in his house back in Doncaster when his mum woke him up for school.