i sleep naked ➸ larry stylinson

eleven

the saddest moment in harry's life used to be when he was about fourteen and him and gemma got in a fight.

it was a stupid reason; he couldn't even remember why they were fighting in the first place. but he could remember how much hatred he had felt towards his family, but more towards himself.

he told gemma he hated her. he said that he wished she was never born. and he screamed. there was so much going on his mind. his stomach was hurting, hurting so much, and he couldn't breathe and there were tears running down his face and all he do was bite his lip as hard as he could and squeeze his eyes shut.

and gemma wouldn't stop yelling at him, yelling out insults that she knew would hurt him the most.

and they did hurt. they hurt and he screamed at her until their mother came up and started shouting at harry, while gemma ran away to her own room, and she wasn't crying like harry was.

and then he was being yelled at by his own mother, and all he could do was run past her and out the door, into the cold air as it was late at night and he was so tired. she didn't even follow after him. he laid down on the cold concrete of the sidewalk outside their house and fell asleep, he fell asleep to the sound of passing cars and the comforting, dim light from the street lamp nearby.

he woke up with an aching back and his face hurt and his eyes were burning from the tears he had shed.

and he swore to himself that he hated his life, that it couldn't get any worse. he knew it was the saddest moment that would ever happen.

when he went back inside that morning, his sister was acting as if nothing happened and his mother was ignoring him.

he could practically hear their thoughts.

it's okay. it's the aspergers, it's not him.

but aspergers wasn't the reason his heart was hurting, it wasn't why he cried himself to sleep.

he was unhappy.

and it was like that until the day louis kissed him, for real, and it was his first kiss and he didn't know what to do with his hands because he was inexperienced.

when louis left later that day, harry was smiling, he wasn't crying, and he was happy. louis made him happy.

but only sometimes.

which led to the saddest moment in his life.

it was a whole week after louis had visited him at his house and kissed him senseless.

that whole week was spent shamelessly flirting and giving long hugs in the hallway, and harry was walking around with butterflies in his stomach and hearts in his eyes.

which was why when louis changed it hurt more than ever before.

harry had just finished drawing louis' collarbones on his portrait. he decided to draw him in his signature white tank top, which meant he could draw his collarbones. they were one of harry's favorite things about louis.

eleanor was bugging him about how harry should ask louis out, but harry felt that louis should ask him out instead. because louis seemed more likely to do it, as he was more confident and more in charge.

so eleanor advised harry to drop subtle hints about being louis' boyfriend, which harry thought was a good idea.

but when he arrived at louis' locker after the seventh period bell rang, he was brought back to when he was fourteen. the hallways were empty, because he had spent about ten minutes trying to think of the right things to say to louis. what if he sounded dumb? stupid?