Third person's POV.
Harry had taken Lou to his flat that night when he found her barley concious with some guy all over her. She was laying on his bed and he layed on his side next to her, his elbow firm on his pillow and his face burried in his hand, observing her as she would make drastic movements and painful flinches and mumble things he couldn't make out while she was still clearly stuck in her nightmare from so many drugs. He was patting a thick warm towell on her forhead with a frown planted on his face, her lips moved as if she talked but only whisperes came out, her fists gripping unto harry's shirt and unto the bed covers.
She started scratching her arms violently mumbling, "It burns, it burns, make it stop" but though how low she said it it echoed desperation like screams.
Harry took off his shirt off of her. He hated looking at her like this, he hated the image of her body but he loved it aswell. He hated watching the areas on her skin where she had rippen open her flesh, scars on her arms, scars on her wrists, scars on her hips, on her waist, on her ribs, all of them covered by cloth and braclets and a fake smile.
"Why would you do this to yourself?" He whispered, as he ran along his long fingers down her arm and it emptied his chest and filled it with dense air, like it was hard to breathe, or the world was running out of oxygen, "So many cuts"
Lou could hear Harry's words echoing in her head, she could hear them but she couldn't wake up and she was so scared. She felt upset, someone was touching her scars and she couldn't do anything. She felt ashamed, disturbed and intruded.
"Why would you do this to yourself? So many cuts.." It echoed in her head, louder each time.
Her wirsts twisted and her legs felt numb as a bitter laughter took over Harry's voice in her head, laughing louder each time, biterrer, worse than Lia, and not long after that she realized it was her own laugh, it was herself inside her head, "Oh Harry," She laughed bitterly and vicously, "You should see my thighs"
Lou's POV.
I woke up, in Harry's room. I can't remember what happened last night, and I can't remember why I was here. We hadn't been talking for about a week, and I had gone to a party last night with abby and georgia, and... jake? Wait, what did Harry do?
Wait, am I .... naked?
I lift the white sheets to find myself completly naked underneath, no underwear, no nothing. Did harry see me naked? Like, did he see my full naked body? Did we..? Oh shit no.
I wrapped all of the bed sheets around me holding the heavy material underneath my armpids and dragged the ends of them against the floor as I walked. My arms uncovered exposing my red crimson lines all over them and the healed scars, but he has clearly already seen them... I mean... I was naked on his bed.
I walk outside of Harry's room, he sits casually on the kitchen table, only wearing his tight boxers.
I glare at him, as if one look would yell at him to explain me why I was laying naked on his bed with no concious of what had happened before. He frowns, then looks at the table were an open pack of menthol cigarettes sit.
"Cigarette?" He asks bluntly.
"You smoke now?" I say more sharply than i meant to.
He shook his, "Lia left them here"
"Sure" I pull one out with awkward movements that would prevent from loosing grip from the bed sheets around me. I promptly place the cigarette on my lips, as if he would have taken it away from my hand, "Lighter?"
YOU ARE READING
Trouble (Harry Styles Fanfic)
FanfictionI think when it's all over it just comes back in flashes, you know? It's like a kaleidoscope of memories; it just all comes back. But he never does. I think part of me knew the second I saw him that this would happen It's not really anything he said...
