Haunted (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 5

A/N 

I am sooo sorry I haven't updated in like two-three (I don't remember) weeks!!! 

I'm going to start updating every Monday, I promise!!! 

Loveee you!

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Harry's POV

I woke up with my head feeling stuffy and like it was full of cotton. My eyes burned and my face felt stiff. 

This wasn't an unusual feeling. It happened every time I woke up after crying myself to sleep.  

I'd heard Liam and Louis having a full out scream-off after Louis had finally given up banging on my door, pleading for me to understand. 

Actually, he hadn't wanted to stop. By the sounds I had heard, Liam had forcibly dragged him away.  

I hadn't been able to understand what they were shouting; I had been crying to hard. But one thing I knew was that Liam was pissed off. He was absolutely beyond furious with Louis. I appreciated him for this because I didn't have to strength to be mad.  

Honestly, I'd already forgiven Louis the second he'd apologized. But his words still hurt.  

'Attention whore' was the worst. If it was up to me, I'd leave the band and go to some private island with no Internet or television or anything that connected me with the media. I was sick and tired of always being scrutinized. I didn't want the attention; I hated it.  

Legitimately leaving the band had crossed my mind so many times that I couldn't count them. But I always forced myself to stay for the other lads' sakes.  

That's why being called an attention whore hurt. Not because it was rude, but because it proved how little Louis knew about me, when we used to tell each other everything.  

My phone lit up on the night stand and I groggily reached for it.  

Holy shit I had a lot of messages.  

I had over two hundred from Louis, fifty from Liam, eleven from Zayn, and six from Niall. The most recent one was from Niall.

'Interview today mate. xx'

I grimaced. Great. 

I probably had puffy, bloodshot eyes, not to mention the dark bags that I knew would be under them.  

I slowly sat up and sighed, shuffling out of my room. I just wanted to go back to bed, cry a little, and sleep the rest of the day.  

Not surprisingly, Liam was in my flat still. 

He looked up at me when I entered, grimacing at my appearance.  

"I literally had to throw him out. Like pick him up and carry him out of the door," he said quietly, concern for me mixing with anger with Louis in his eyes.  

I didn't reply. Instead, I headed into the kitchen and debated if I should eat or not.  

Liam appeared in the doorway and watched me dig through my fridge. The cold air hit my shirtless chest and made me shiver.  

I could feel Liam's eyes burning into the scars littering my torso. Sometimes I cut my stomach or hips as well as my wrist. Actually, I kind of cut everywhere in general.  

Or maybe he was looking at the way my ribs were so sharply protruding out that they seemed to be about to rip through my skin.  

I had to grimace at that idea.